


Vermilion Manor

by Sinistretoile



Category: Crimson Peak (2015)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Assault, Attempted Sexual Assault, Bathtub Sex, Birthday, Birthday Presents, Birthday Sex, Character Death, Childbirth, Cliffhangers, Coitus Interruptus, Continuation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, F/M, Family Fluff, Gift Giving, Grief/Mourning, Gunshot Wounds, Happy Ending, Hunters & Hunting, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Incest, Memories, More Feels, More angst, More revelations, Original Character Death(s), Puppies, Revelations, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Content, Wall Sex, fox hunting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 05:03:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 31,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8088268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinistretoile/pseuds/Sinistretoile
Summary: Nearly two years later, Thomas and Olivia have healed their wounds from the events at Allerdale Hall. But there are still prices to pay and wrongs to right. Things are not over for The Sharpes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't feel like Thomas and Olivia's story was done with the end of Widow's Peak. I hope you enjoy this second 'book'.

The dogs barked. Their loud volume drowned out the squeak of the puppies. Michael ran up and down the kennels, causing the dogs to chase him on their side of the fence. Henry strained against Olivia’s arm, reaching for the puppies.  
“Have you made a decision, Lady Sharpe?”  
She turned to the kennel master and smiled. The older man blushed. He could see why Sir Thomas loved his wife and why she was pregnant yet again. “Yes, we have. We’ll take two from Lady Belle’s litter and two from Jezebel’s litter.”  
“Good choice, miss, good choice.”  
Olivia set Henry on the ground at her feet and wrote the kennel master a check. “I want them delivered within the hour. That should cover their needs for the immediate future. And if you could recommend someone to train them, I’d be most appreciative.”  
“Well, I’ll train them for ya, Lady Sharpe.”  
“Splendid! You don’t happen to train young sirs, do you?” She scooped up Henry from the fence. Several of the puppies had licked his face through it.  
“Afraid not, miss. You seem to be doing a fine job of that.” He tipped his head to Michael who had stopped at the end of the row of kennels as was talking to the kennel master’s daughter. He had his hands clasped behind his back and his chin held high.

Thomas sighed as he unfolded himself from the carriage. It was good to be home. His eyes drank in the facade of Vermilion Manor. He had no idea the depth of undertaking rebuilding his family’s company would be. Thankfully, Olivia was self-sufficient and had Matilda to help with the boys. And she was supportive of him and this endeavor.  
He looked down at his useless hand. He flexed his crooked fingers to ease the ache in them. His head snapped up at the front door banging open.  
“Papa!” Michael thundered down the front steps and launched himself at his father. Thomas caught him effortlessly and swung him around. The two laughed.  
“I take it you missed me.”  
“I did.” Michael hugged him tightly about the throat.  
Thomas kissed the crown of his head. “I missed you too. Where are your mother and Henry?”  
“Out back. Mummy, Hennie and I got you a prize, Papa.”  
“A prize? Whatever for?”  
“Your birtday, Papa.”  
Thomas jerked. He couldn’t remember the last birthday he’d celebrated. Michael wriggled free and grabbed his hand tugging him to the door.  
The footman waved him ahead. “I’ll just put these in the foyer, Sir Sharpe.”  
“Yes, thank you.” Thomas called over his shoulder as his almost four year old son practically dragged him up the stairs and through the foyer to the breezeway and out the back doors to patio.  
“Papa!” Henry drew himself up and ran to Thomas as best as a toddler could run over grass, being chased by four puppies.  
“Henry, my boy!” Thomas swept up and held him high, spinning him around like he’d done Michael. He kissed his laughing son and pulled him against his side. The puppies yipped and tried to climb Thomas’s legs.  
“Olivia, darling, what’s all this?” Thomas navigated the grass and the attacking puppies to where his wife lounged on a blanket in the afternoon sunshine.  
“Springer spaniels.”  
“I see that, but why?” He set Henry on the blanket. The boys began to tussle with the puppies. Thomas leaned down to take her lips in a sweet kiss.  
“You had such a wonderful time with Jacob and Sebastian. I thought you might like a few hunting dogs yourself. So that you could get away from everything for a little while. Should I not have?”  
“No, it’s a wonderful present, my love.” Thomas dropped to the blanket then leaned down and kissed her belly. The baby kicked him in the face. Olivia laughed. “I say this one is girl. Feisty like her mother.” He rubbed his cheek where the little unborn foot had thumped.  
“The doctor says she’s growing splendidly. I don’t look forward to having a new baby in the winter.”  
“Yes, but the Manor isn’t as damp and drafty and dangerous as Allerdale was.”  
“And no ghosts of dead wives trying to kill me this time.”  
“Yes, none of that.” He wrapped his hand behind her neck and pulled her down into a kiss. Their tongues explored each other. He licked his lips as they parted. “I’ve missed you terribly.”  
“As much as I’ve missed you.” He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, scraping his teeth against her wrist. “You must show me…later after the boys have gone to bed.”  
“Oh, believe me, sweet girl. I’ll show you.”  
A throat cleared at the edge of the blanket. “Lady Olivia, Sir Thomas, dinner is ready.”  
“Thank you, Matilda. Did you make the special preparations I requested?”  
“Yes, miss.”  
“Excellent.” Thomas huffed as Olivia jumped up, surprisingly spry for being five months pregnant. His back fell against the blanket and he looked up at her. Backlit by the sun, she looked like the angel she was. Again, he thanked whatever powers that be that they’d sent her to him. His savior, his angel.


	2. Chapter 2

Thomas glanced at his wife. He couldn’t decide if he should laugh or rail. Matilda stood at his side, her delicate little hands clasps at her waist. She glanced from Olivia to Thomas.  
“You’re not pleased, Sir Thomas.”  
“I’m pleased, Mattie. I’m simply not accustomed to the fanfare.”  
“Fanfare, darling? Silly party hats and your favorite pudding is not fanfare.”  
He sighed. She was right. This was far less than they’d done for Michael. And infinitesimal compared to what his darling love had done for Henry’s first birthday. “Very well, I concede defeat.” He set the party hat on his head to the delighted squeals of his sons.  
Olivia stood from her seat to his right and kissed his cheek. “So handsome, you are, my birthday boy.”  
Thomas growled and pulled her into his lap. “I’m no boy, Lady Sharpe.” She giggled. They simply stared into each other’s eyes until Matilda cleared her throat.  
“Begging your pardon, but the sun is low and the boys need their baths.”  
“Of course, Mattie, cut the cake.” Thomas’s eyes never left his wife. Matilda moved the cake further down the table so she could cut pieces for Thomas, Olivia, Michael and Henry. “Kindly share the leftovers between yourself and the rest of the house staff, Mattie.”  
“Thank you, sir. Many happy returns, Sir Thomas.”  
It had been a year and a half since their escape from Allerdale Hall. Thomas couldn’t begin to count his blessings. He felt a pang of sadness and regret at the loss of Lucille. But his life had blossomed in the aftermath of her death.  
He tried to keep these dark thoughts from his face as he ate his birthday cake with his wife on his lap. His grief had nearly consumed him in the days following that night. He sacrificed his sister for his wife and children. He’d sacrificed functional use of his hand to save his own life. He drank himself to a dangerous point. He’d screamed and raged, consumed by guilt and grief.  
All the while, Olivia tended the house and their children, as well as him when he’d worn himself out. She helped him to the toilet to be sick. She helped him to the bath and washed him with great care. She held him while he wept until he fell into a fitful sleep.  
Then one morning he’d woken up before her. The early morning sunlight fell across her lovely face. He remembered why he’d left that tomb of a house. He slipped from the bed and wandered to the kitchen in his dressing gown.  
Matilda screeched in surprise. “Sir Thomas, you scared me.”  
“My apologies, Matilda. Do you have any coffee ready?”  
“Yes, sir, and there’s water hot for tea, sir.” She poured him a cup of the Turkish coffee Olivia had brought back from Paris.  
Thomas sipped it, hot and black then shook his head. “This is quite alright.” He left Matilda to finish breakfast. They eventually hired a cook so that Mattie had more time to attend the duties she was hired for as the boys’ nanny, not simply the duties she’d assumed to help out in the wake of Lucille’s death.  
His feet carried him first to Michael’s room. Typical of his son, trains and blocks were left out on the floor. His movement in his sleep had uncovered his foot. Thomas picked through the toys to gently cover his son’s foot. His next stop was Henry’s nursery. His son. His. Son. He crossed to the crib. His hair had finally started to come in, a black fuzz like his father but straight as an arrow like his mother. Thomas watched his tiny chest rise and fall, his cherubic face so innocent in sleep. He touched his little hand thrown above his head.  
Thomas’s heart clenched. This small, precious life washed away the darkness in his heart. He kissed his son’s forehead then returned to his wife. In every sense of the word. He crawled into bed and slipped beneath the covers, waking her up with his tongue then he made love to her as she whispered, ‘There you are.’ Their coupling pushed back the darkness in his soul. Again, Olivia’s intense love of him had saved him. She was again a balm for his soul.  
“Thomas?” He hummed and looked up at Olivia. “Are you alright?”  
“Yes, my sweet.”  
She turned on his lap. “You were miles away.” Her fingertips caressed his face.  
He covered her elegant hand with his broken one. "Thinking how lucky I am that I found you. That you have stayed with me when you should have left so many times. I love you and the boys so very much."  
Olivia turned her hand to hold his then brought their joined hands to her lips, kissing his ruined fingers. She understood how much destroying his hand had cost him. He hadn't been able to finish the prototype of the invention he'd designed and begun before they left Allerdale. He closed his eyes against the pain of loss, of sacrifice. When he opened them, she was looking at him. "And we love you very much."

Thomas lay back against the tiled bath. His body stretched the entire length of the tub. He opened his right eye a crack as the door opened. Olivia stepped in and closed the door behind her. She let the robe fall off her shoulders to the crook of her elbows, the edges resting on her hardened nipples. Thomas unconsciously licked his lips.  
"The boys are in bed, darling."  
"I'll have to tell them goodnight when I get out." Her bare feet made no sound on the tile as she sauntered across the room, the robe falling more and more. Thomas opened both his eyes and sat up. He followed her progress until she stood at the edge of the tub, naked holding the robe lightly in her hands.  
"May I join you?"  
"Of course, my love." She dropped the robe to the floor. Her toes slipped into the hot water. He followed the water's progress up her calf. The water level ended just under her knee. He wrapped his hand around her knee then reached up and pulled her down against him.  
"So eager, my husband." She sighed as she settled against him.  
"I've been in London nearly two weeks. I've missed my wife." He kissed her shoulder. His hands smoothed the hot water up her belly and over her enlarged breasts. “There were days where only you could soothe me and it was physical pain you weren’t there.” His hard cock bumped against her slit.  
“And now, you’re here.” She turned her upper body to look at him. “Tell me, Thomas, what were you thinking earlier?”  
“I told you.”  
“Not of all of it.”  
He kissed her shoulder then sighed, resting his hands on her baby bump. His thumbs rubbed parallel lines over the smooth curve. “That I miss Lucille.” Thomas expected her to rage or stiffen. She surprised him by doing neither.  
“I miss her too.” His face snapped down to hers. She laughed. “Don’t look so shocked, poppet. I loved her as well.” She caressed his cheek with the back of her finger, dripping water onto her own shoulder. “But in the end, she had destroyed her love for me and she twisted her love for you into something unrealistic and wrong.”  
“Our love was wrong to begin with.”  
“Hush, let’s not state the obvious. Your love saved the two of you from pain and neglect. That you even knew love in that house was a miracle.”  
“Still our love caused more pain and death.” She covered his mouth with her fingers.  
“Enough. These are not things we need to discuss. We both know what happened. It is dead and gone.”  
“Yes, Olivia.”  
Her thumb traced his bottom lip. “Now, my loving man…how about you take your wife to bed?”  
He sucked her thumb into his mouth, sucking the water off the delicate digit then scraping his teeth over the pad. “Yes, my loving woman, but first…” He shifted her up then pulled her down onto his length. His mouth dropped open as hers did. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she tried to close them. “No, Livi, don’t look away.” He held her chin, looking into her eyes.  
Water ran down her throat and ran from his hand. His braced his feet on the sides of the tub and bounced her up and down. Her cries echoed off the tiled floor and walls. He bit her bottom lip, sucking on its swollen flesh, before ravaging her mouth. Her bouncing breasts splashed the water. He squeezed her chin a bit harder, scrunching his eyes closed. He pressed his face against her temple as he found his release quickly. She didn't find hers, but he would remedy that when he got her into the bed.  
They were a flurry of movement as they sprang from the tub and toweled each other off. Lips and tongues and hands took liberties of their bodies until she was wet and ready for him and he was hard and ready to go again. He scooped her up into a bridal carry. His long legs made the distance from their master bath to their sprawling bed quick work.  
Thomas tossed her onto the bed, enjoying the little yip of surprise she let go. Then he covered her, kissing away their laughter. And he claimed her. Their chorused moans and shouts let the house know what a happy birthday it was for Sir Thomas Sharpe.


	3. Chapter 3

Michael looked out over the production floor. Men and even some women were covered in dirt and grime, coal soot and grease. His blue eyes, the reason Thomas passed so easily for his father, widened at all the activity and the noise. No wonder mummy had put muffs over Henry’s ears. It was so loud he could almost hear it in his bad ear. Almost. He giggled at the vibrations.  
That’s when he saw her. A little girl running through the legs of the hardworking men. She had long pig-tailed braids that trailed out behind her like streaks of fire. Mummy braided her hair like that when they went swimming. He could see beneath the dirt and the grime that her hair was the color as Mummy’s. He walked along the catwalk, as she went, following her every move with her eyes. He slipped and gasped.  
Papa’s hands were suddenly under his arms. “Careful, Michael.” He lifted him up and turned him around. “You probably wouldn’t survive a fall from this height. That would make your mother and I extremely sad.”  
“I’m so-sorry, Papa. I’ll be more careful.”  
“Good boy.”  
“Papa?”  
“Yes, Michael?”  
He turned in his father’s arms, searching for the little red-haired girl. “There was a girl.”  
Thomas sighed. “Yes, Michael, some girls and boys work for me. Just like their parents.”  
“You should give her a good job. Where it’s not so loud and dirty.”  
Thomas smiled. “And what would that be?”  
“We should take her home with us. She can help Mattie in the kitchen.”  
“You know, that is an idea.”  
“Sir Sharpe?” Thomas glanced over his shoulder at his foreman. “Michael, go wait in the office your mother and be very careful on the catwalk.”  
“Yes, Papa.”  
Michael didn’t look for the little girl again until he was safely by the office. He thought he saw a flash of her fiery red hair just as the door opened behind him. “There you are. Where’s your father?”  
Michael looked up at Mummy then looked back where he’d seen a flash of the girl with red pigtails. “He’s over there with the man.” He pointed in the direction of Thomas and foreman. “Mummy, I saw a girl.”  
“You did? Well come inside and tell me all about her.”  
Olivia led Michael into the office, smiling as he described the little girl. “She sounds lovely.”  
“I told Papa he should give her a nice job.”  
“I’m sure he will try, Mimi.”  
Henry looked up from his train. At two, he showed Michael’s curiosity and Thomas’s ingenuity. Olivia sighed as she spotted the pieces of what used to be the train. Another locomotive for Thomas to put back together. The baby kicked her in the ribs, taking her breath away. She grimaced and lounged more on her side to give the baby more room.  
“Are you alight, mummy?”  
“I’m fine, Mimi. The baby likes to kick mummy where she breathes.”  
Michael walked over to his mother and laid his hands on her belly. “You be nice to Mummy, you hear me in there?” Olivia smiled broadly. “You need to be a good little boy or girl.”  
Henry came over and laid his cheek on her belly. “Be good, baby.”  
The baby chose that moment to move. Michael’s eyes widened as he felt it. Henry giggled. Olivia grinned wider if it were possible. “Wait a moment, boys.” She rolled onto her back on the couch. Michael and Henry laid their cheeks and hands on her belly, feeling their little brother or sister move inside her.  
Thomas watched on the other side of the window. He knew the noise would disturb the moment. He didn’t fight the smile that curled his thin lips. Olivia saw him when she finally looked away from the boys. Her eye shifted behind him and her face fell. All joy and light vanishing in a mask of hate and anger that washed away behind a blank look of weariness.  
Silas laid his hand heavily on Thomas’s shoulder. “Thomas, what a pleasant surprise.”  
Thomas shrugged him off then turned around. “Why is that a surprise, Silas? This is my factory after all.”  
“I would expect you to be home with your wife and sons getting ready to welcome the new little one.”  
“Everything is ready at home for the baby, Silas. The doctor hasn’t told Olivia to stop travel so she and the boys came with me.”  
“Excellent!”  
Thomas opened the door, letting the noise in and breaking the moment the boys shared with their unborn sibling.  
“Uncle Silas!”  
Michael spun around and ran across the room. He tackled the older gentleman in a fierce hug. Henry sat up but didn’t leave his mother’s side. He didn’t like the big, loud man who made Mummy sad and mad. Olivia looked from Henry’s face to Thomas. Thomas noticed the boy’s deep frown as well.  
“Henry?”  
“Yes, Papa?”  
“Would you like to see my workshop?”  
“Oh yes!” His eyes lit up. Olivia tried to sit up on her own. Thomas saw her struggle and hurried to her side.  
“You missed it.”  
“No, my sweet girl, I saw the whole thing.” He kissed her gently. “Take Henry down the walk to the last set of double doors. Michael and I will meet you there when your uncle leaves.”  
“Yes, my love.”  
“No, Olivia, you need to be present since this concerns you.”  
Silas smirked arrogantly. He knew his presence had an ill effect on her. But that was because she was blinded by the cock of her young buck husband. Once he was out of the way, Olivia would see what a fine man he was.  
“Very well, uncle.” She sighed and rested Henry on her lap. The boy tugged at the curls above his right ear. The same gesture Michael did when he was over tired. The self-same gesture Olivia had done when she was child. Silas smiled at the boy, who tucked his face into his mother’s breast.  
Thomas gestured to one of the chairs on the visitor’s side of the desk. Silas sat then Michael climbed onto his knee. Thomas stood halfway between the couch and chair. “The doctor tells me my heart isn’t what it used to be.”  
“Shame.” Olivia leveled him with the darkest look he’d seen from her in a long time.  
“Olivia.” Thomas held out his hand to her.  
“It’s alright, Thomas. I know my niece knows no love for me.”  
“You misunderstand, Silas. My concern isn’t for your offense. Olivia is nearly due. I don’t want her unduly upset.”  
Silas raised an eyebrow. “Very well, then. I’ll accept that. The fact of the matter is I am an old man. With an old man’s heart and I will die. I came to let you know that I’m leaving my entire estate to you, Olivia.”  
“I don’t want it.”  
“Now, don’t insult me, child.”  
“Hang your insults, Silas. I don’t want your house or your money. I don’t want anything from you.”  
“And what of the boys, hm?”  
“Michael and Henry are well taken care of.”  
“What of their future? The older Sharpe men have a tendency to waste away their fortunes on liquor and whores.”  
“Silas!”  
“You need to leave, Silas.”  
Michael looked from Mummy to Papa. He didn’t quite understand what Uncle Silas had said but it was bad. Michael screwed up fist and bopped him in the nose. “Christ!” Silas stood up abruptly and dumped Michael on the floor. His hefty, meaty hand struck Michael’s cheek.  
“Michael!” Olivia launched herself from the couch and at her uncle. Her hands had become claws. She bloodied his face and pulled out some of his hair before he grabbed her by the wrists and flung her to the floor. But his nephew had trained her well, and she knew how to land. It served her unborn children well a second time.  
Silas seethed down at his niece. “That’s where you belong! On the floor like a whore!” He grunted, taken by surprise as Thomas’s fist connected with his fat belly. Thomas brought his fists up and connected a series of jabs right into the right side of Silas’s face.  
The foreman threw open the door, responding to the shouting. “Everything alright, Sir Sharpe?”  
Thomas breathed heavily, his eyes wild, as he forced himself to lower his fists. “Everything is fine, Sean. Kindly escort Mr. Lancaster off the property.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“You might need help. He will likely fight.” The foreman nodded then whistled and waved out the door. A group of five workmen filed into the office, to ‘help’ Silas up and out of the factory. The foreman and the workmen took in the Lady Sharpe and young Michael on the floor and Sir Thomas spitting mad with bruised and bleeding knuckles.  
The group was none too gentle with Silas as they bullied him down the stairs and across the production floor and out the door. Silas should rewrite his will again to take Olivia out after that scene, but he wanted to make sure Michael was taken care of, and Henry and the unborn child as well. Olivia was half of them. He would continue to bide his time. His plans would start to move forward soon then he would have everything he wanted.  
The foreman poked his head into the office. “Do I need to summon the doctor, your ladyship?”  
Olivia adjusted herself on the couch. “No, Sean, thank you.”  
“You sure, lady?” He glanced at Thomas who looked down to his wife.  
“Yes, I’m sure.”  
“Thank you again, Sean. See that the men who helped receive a small bonus for the day.”  
“Yes, sir.” He tipped his hat. Sir Sharpe was a generous employer. He paid his workers more than any other industry lord in all of London. If a worker was hurt, he saw that the man got paid so his family didn’t go without. He often took his meal with the men. He knew how every piece of machinery worked in the factory. He’d gotten dirty and sweaty and greasy with his employees, as well as drunk. He’d taken part in their fisticuffs. He had shown himself as a trustworthy boss and to show their appreciation, his employees were loyal and worked hard.  
Thomas pulled the cloth away from Michael’s cheek. “The ice helped the swelling, son but you’re going to be sore and bruised.” The flesh over his cheekbone and around his eye had already begun to darken. “Are you alright, Olivia?”  
“I’m fine, Thomas. Shaken but fine.” She looked at her belly as she rubbed it with both hands. “It’s been a long time since Silas put his hands on me.”  
“It’ll never happen again.”  
Olivia looked up at him. They’d been married almost four years. They’d survived vengeful ghosts and a murderous sister. But there were still secrets between them. The biggest belonged to her. She needed to tell him.  
A knock broke her reverie. “Sir Sharpe?”  
“Yes, Sean?”  
“There’s a constable and a detective here to see you.”  
Thomas’s gut dropped. The last time a constable and a detective came to visit, Pamela Upton had been the topic of discussion. Olivia saw his apprehension and could guess what the wheels turning in his head were saying.  
“Sean, send them right up.”  
Matilda stepped into the office. “I came as quickly as I could, miss.”  
“It’s alright, Mattie. Please take the boys down to the carriage and wait for Thomas and I.”  
“Yes, miss. Come on then you two.” She hustled the boys to their coats and the door.  
Olivia extricated herself from the couch. She cupped Thomas’s face tenderly. “We knew this day would come. And we’re quite lucky it’s taken this long.”  
“It doesn’t make it any easier.”  
“I know, my love. But rest assured know that I am here.” She kissed the corners of his mouth then placed a close-lipped kiss upon his thin ones.  
“And she is.” He leaned down and kissed her round belly.  
Olivia laughed as he looked up at her, dotting kisses over the gravid swell of her. “You’re so sure the baby is a she.”  
Before he could answer, a throat cleared at the doorway. “Sir Sharpe?”  
“Come in, gentlemen. Thank you, Sean.”  
Olivia leaned up against the desk. Getting up and down from the couch had aggravated her back. Thomas watched her a moment, breathing slow and deep. Her eyes had become unfocused and distant.  
“Just a moment. Olivia?” Thomas stepped in front of her. “Darling, are you alright?”  
She blinked a few times then looked at him and smiled. “I’m fine, love.”  
“Please, sit down. You’re starting to look pale.”  
“Thomas, I’m fine.” She brushed him off over dramatically. “My back hurts but that’s part and parcel to pregnancy.”  
“Nonsense. I’ll have the doctor meet us at the townhouse.” He looked up at the pair of men. “Do you gentlemen think this might take a while?”  
The constable looked at the detective. “Shouldn’t take too long, sir.”  
“Just a moment.” He ducked out the door to find the foreman.  
Olivia breathed slowly, rubbing her belly. “May I ask what this is about?”  
“Begging your pardon, Lady Sharpe, but we’ll wait for your husband.”  
Olivia smirked as she looked down at her belly. It was going to be like that, was it? She drew in a deep breath as the pain tightened in her lower back then released.  
Thomas stalked back in, making a beeline for his wife and ignoring the men. “The doctor is meeting us at home in one hour.” He gathered her hands in his and kissed the knuckles before turning to the men of law. “My apologies, good sirs. My wife is very pregnant as you can tell.”  
“It’s quite alright, Sir Sharpe.” The constable took off his hat. “But might we discuss this alone? I wouldn’t want to upset her delicate condition.”  
“Whatever you have to discuss with me, you may do so in front of my wife. We have no secrets.” Thomas looked over his shoulder at her. She smirked, tempted to mouth ‘liar’.  
“Very well, Sir Thomas. It’s been brought to our attention that you were married to a Ms. Margaret McDurmond.” The detective handed him a picture of his first wife.  
“Ah Margaret, how is she?” He looked up from the picture, meeting the detective’s eyes as he handed it back.  
“We were hoping you or she could tell us.”  
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”  
The detective looked over Thomas’s shoulder at Olivia then back to Thomas. “Then let me be perfectly clear, Sir Sharpe. Ms. McDurmond’s family has heard nothing from her since she left Dublin with you and your sister, Lucille.”  
“Margaret told me she had no family. It was one of the reasons why she was so eager to leave Ireland and start a family.”  
“And did you?”  
“Did we what?” The detective blatantly looked at Olivia’s belly. “Oh.” Thomas turned away from the detectives and crossed the handful of steps to his wife. “No, we did not. She became extremely jealous of my relationship with my sister.”  
“Which was?”  
Olivia clutched his hand. “Please gentlemen, do we have to discuss Lucille?”  
“Forgive my wife. She was close with Lucille and my sister perished in the collapse of Allerdale Hall.”  
The detective squared his shoulders. “My apologies, Lady Sharpe. Sir Thomas, please answer the question.”  
Olivia turned her face into Thomas’s arm, their hands tightened on each other. “Lucille and I were close. Only two years apart as children and orphaned in adolescence.”  
“So Ms. McDurmond was jealous of your closeness.”  
Thomas cleared his throat. “Yes, that’s correct.” He pulled his hand from Olivia’s and met the detective’s inquisitive gaze full on. “She demanded I chose between her and Lucille. I chose Lucille.”  
The men looked shocked. “You chose your sister over your wife?”  
“Yes, sirs. While I cared for Margaret, Lucille and I had a close bond. She railed at me then left me. Lucille said she’d take care of the annulment so that I could continue to work.”  
“I thought annulments were only valid if the marriage hadn’t been consummated.”  
“That’s correct. Margaret had been on her menses when we married. Then she became ill during travel. I’m a kind and loving husband so I waited until she was well. Then we argued over my sister and she left.”  
The constable and the detective looked between each other. “Forgive me if this sounds accusatory, Sir Sharpe. But your late wife Pamela and now with Margaret’s disappearance coming to light, it does look rather unfortunate for you.”  
Olivia swooped in. “Now you listen here, detective, my Thomas mourned Ms. Upton and the life they never had. You can’t fault him for her sickness.” She pushed off the desk and crossed to them. “Nor can you fault him for the jealousy of a new bride. You know the Irish have tempers. And the tempers of Irish women are legendary.”  
“I did not mean to imply-“  
Olivia held up her hand. “If you find Ms. McDurmond, I would like you to thank her for me.” She turned to Thomas. “Without her abandoning Thomas, we wouldn’t have found such happiness.”  
“My apologies again, Lady Sharpe.” The detective looked down at the picture in his hand. “She hasn’t made any type of contact since she left?”  
Thomas gathered Olivia to his chest. “I’m afraid not, detective. She was quite adamant when she left that she wanted nothing to do with me.”  
The detective sighed and took off his hat, combing his fingers through his hair. “Thank you for your time, Sir and Lady.” The law men doffed their hats then took their leave.  
Olivia looked up at Thomas. “Silas.”  
“Of that I have no doubt. Surely, he’d expected his visit to go better and to be here when they arrived.”  
She frowned and ducked her head into his chest. “I wonder what else he knows about.”  
“You mean Enola or the baby?”  
“Both.”  
Thomas pressed his lips to her forehead. “He wouldn’t have any knowledge of the baby. There is no record of our son.” She stiffened.  
“No record?”  
Thomas held her back. “Of course not. Who would we have listed as the father? Surely not me. And leaving it blank would have caused a scandal.” Olivia pulled herself from his arms and began to ready herself to go. “Of all of my sins, this is the one that upsets you?” Thomas pulled on his coat and grabbed his walking stick.  
Olivia looked away from him. “It’s as if he never existed, Thomas.” He turned her chin to look at him. Her chest clenched at the tears in her eyes for his tragic son. “Two of only three people in this world to know of him are gone. It’s as if he were never born.”  
“You know of him. And Michael knows.”  
“Michael will forget as he grows older. Hopefully he forgets everything about Allerdale Hall.”  
Thomas soothed her cheeks with his thumbs. “You and I know he existed, my darling.”  
“What was his name?”  
Olivia saw the anguish and guilt swim in his eyes. “His name was Benjamin.” He hoped she didn’t notice the crack in his voice.  
“Did you love him?”  
Thomas laughed cruelly, blinking the tears from his eyes. “Yes, I loved him. But it hurt so terribly. He was sickly and wrong as punishment for our sins.”  
Olivia covered his lips with her fingers. “Hush, hush, my love.” She pulled her fingers away and kissed him. He crushed her to his chest tightly, ignoring the stinging tears. “You will tell me everything you remember about him. Then we will love him. We will love him so that he knows in the beyond. He is a part of you and a part of Lucille. And I will love him because of that. I will love him as my own.”  
“I don’t deserve you.” Thomas swallowed, wiping his eyes.  
“That might be true, but I am yours and we were made for each other.” Olivia laced her fingers with his then turned and led them out of the factory. The biggest thorn from his soul had been plucked and freed. She would heal him. He watched her squint into the setting sun as they waited for the carriage to come around. When she was ready, he would heal her.


	4. Chapter 4

Silas’s lawyer showed up right on time. He looked frazzled and at his wits end. Silas sat forward in the chair.  
“What have you got for me, John?”  
The man sat down and dropped his briefcase with a thump. “There was a third wife. One right before Olivia. By the name of Enola Sciotti.” The lawyer picked up his briefcase and laid it on his knees. He popped it open and handed Silas paper after paper. “It looks to me like these Sharpes preyed on women of great fortune but with no family. The fact that all three women were in different countries, it worked to their advantage.”  
“They explained away suspicion for the Upton woman?”  
“Yes, your niece did. And Sir Sharpe brooded on the couch the entire time. They even offered to let the family come visit the grave.”  
“Convenient since the whole Sharpe estate collapsed into the clay.” Silas stroked his chin. “And the Irish bitch. Mc-Mac-“  
“Margaret McDurmond, sir. The detective seemed convinced of his story. The woman grew jealous of his relationship with his sister and abandoned the marriage. It was supposed to be annulled.”  
“But it wasn’t.”  
“No, her estate was transferred to the Sharpes and the woman was never heard from again.”  
“But the detective was convinced.”  
“Aye, so how do you want to handle the third wife?”  
Silas looked at the grainy black and white photo thoughtfully. “I don’t know. They seem to have thought of everything. My only concern is Olivia and the boys.”  
“Well, sir, by my accounts, they deviated from their pattern with her. If you notice the dates? Each of the previous wives are a mere year or two apart. Thomas and Olivia have been married for three years. Take into account the children and Lady Lucille’s unfortunate death…”  
“What do you think? Lucille did away with these women? And Thomas stopped her from doing away with Olivia?”  
“Perhaps. Or maybe, Thomas himself did away with the women and he had of change of heart with your niece?”  
“Thank you, John.” The lawyer closed his briefcase. “Are these the only copies of these documents?”  
“Afraid so, sir.”  
“Thank you again, John.” The lawyer nodded and took his leave. Silas leaned over the papers. He’d set a false family onto the Sharpes and they’d talked their way out of it. He’d set the police force onto them and again, they’d talked their way out of it. Another false family or anonymous tip would set suspicions on him rather than where they should truly lay.  
Lucille was out of the way. Shame he couldn’t have a go at her before then. That left him with Thomas. The great thorn in his side. Even with a gimped hand, the boy was still an engineering genius. Sharpe and Sons was requesting patent after patent. The company stood to break six figures in profits before the end of the year. His niece and great-nephews were more than taken care of. But HE wanted to be the one to take care of them. THAT is how it should be. Not him alone in this retched house that reminded him of Marian and Abigail and Frederick, reminded him everything he lost.

The train ride home was not a pleasant one. Thomas spent most of the ride with Olivia’s head in his lap. Normally, that would have made for a pleasant journey but not this time. This time, she was curled around the ball of her swollen belly, breathing heavily. He combed his fingers through her hair and tried to comfort her with his mere presence. His dexterous fingers rubbed her lower back where most of the pain lay, but it wasn’t helping.  
They telegraphed ahead to have the doctor meet them on the platform. Which it was good thing, because as Olivia stepped off the train, her water broke. Matilda took the boys in hand and hustled them to the carriage. The doctor bade Thomas to carry her into the conductor’s quarters in the station.  
Thomas turned to Matilda as he wrung his hands. “Take the boys to the Manor. See them to bed. Send the covered carriage to pick us up.”  
“Yes, sir. Do you want me to have Thea get anything ready?”  
He shook his head. “No, no, if we need anything, I’ll wake her.”  
“Yes, sir.” Matilda seized Thomas’s hand. “It’ll be a’right, sir. Livi is made’a strong stuff.” Thomas didn’t know what made his take Matilda into his arms and hug her tightly. All he knew was that when she hugged him back, he relaxed. “See ya soon, Sir Thomas.”  
Thomas stepped out of the night and into the cramped room. The lantern flickered against the bare wood walls. The doctor waved Thomas over. “I’m going to need your help.”  
“What’s wrong?”  
“The baby is in distress. She’s coming out bottom first. I’m going to need to reach in and turn her around.”  
“What do you want me to do?”  
“I need you to hold Olivia down. Rebecca and Grace have her legs.”  
Thomas squeezed by the nurse and the doctor. “Livi, it’s going to be fine.”  
She shook her head. She latched onto Thomas’s arm. “No, cut me. Just take her. Cut me open and take her.”  
Thomas couldn’t keep how horrible this thought was off his face. “No.”  
Olivia turned to the doctor. “Just cut me open, Dr. Adams. Take her.”  
The doctor hushed her. “Now, now, don’t you panic. I’m going to turn the baby the direction she needs to be. This is going to hurt a great deal, I’m afraid.”  
Thomas threw off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He and Olivia locked hands and he crossed their arms over her chest then braced his broad, muscular body against hers. The doctor worked his hand in and her screaming began. She bucked underneath him.  
“Thomas, quiet her, please.”  
He let up enough and removed his cravat then twisted it into a rope. Olivia clamped down her teeth down on the fabric. Her helpless whimpering broke his heart. She began to scream again, her chest shaking with her sobs. He would have given anything for this to end. To spare her this agony. The doctor felt and pushed on her womb until he had the baby in the proper position.  
“There we go. Now, it should be too much longer.”  
Thomas pulled the fabric from her teeth. “Olivia, are you alright?”  
She laid her head back on the straw pillow. Her chest shook with sobs. “I want to be home. I want to be home, Thomas. Can’t we leave, please?”  
He kissed her sweat-drenched forehead then each of her cheeks and finally her lips. “No, my sweet girl, we cannot.” He lifted her head and sat behind her, laying her head in his lap. “You’ve got more work to do, I’m afraid. But you were right.” He kissed her knuckles. “It’s a girl.”  
Thomas mopped her brow and soothed her with kisses and words of love as her labor finally began to progress. But they weren’t out of the woods yet. The doctor whispered hurriedly to one of the nurses.  
“What is it?”  
“What’s wrong?” Both Thomas and Olivia sat straighter, higher, trying to see through the sheet draped over her knees.  
“The umbilical cord is wrapped around the baby’s throat.” The doctor worked quickly to cut it and not mother or child. A few more pushes and the baby was free and yet, she did not cry.  
“Thomas. Thomas, something is wrong.”  
“It’s alright, Livi. The doctor has everything in hand.” He soothed her, trying desperately to clamp down on his rising panic to keep her calm. It became harder the more time passed without the baby crying.  
“Thomas, do something.” The whites of her eyes began to show. She didn’t know what he could or would have done. He didn’t want to leave her side, but he began to rise. Then from the other side of the doctor, the baby let out a blessed shriek. Olivia dissolved into tears as Thomas held her.  
“Sir Thomas, could I have a moment?”  
“Of course, Dr. Adams.” He kissed his relieved wife again then rose. The two men stepped outside as Olivia watched the nurses clean and wrap her newborn daughter. “Yes, what is it?”  
“Sir Sharpe, the baby, your daughter, she might need continued medical care due to the length of time her brain went without oxygen. If she exhibits any signs of distress, you call me immediately. I’ve taken the liberty of having telephone installed. You have one, I presume.”  
“We do.”  
“She looks healthy at the moment but if anything, and I mean anything should arise, don’t hesitate.”  
“Yes, Dr. Adams.” Thomas turned to go back inside.  
“One more thing, Thomas.”  
“Yes?” He paused.  
“She was born under a veil.” Thomas nodded once then went back into his wife and newborn daughter. He was aware of the old wives’ tale about being born under a veil. He would wait to burden Olivia with this information until they were home and settled.  
“Thomas, Thomas, isn’t she simply beautiful?”  
He sat back behind her head and looked down on his lady loves. “As her mother.” He beamed down at them.  
“My sweet Ava Rose.” She kissed the baby’s forehead. Thomas leaned down and kissed where she had then turned and kissed her lips. They’d paid the price for their happiness again. Nearly losing Ava, he wondered when their slates would be clean. Would they ever be?


	5. Chapter 5

Thomas made a habit of watching Olivia and Ava sleep. He barely slept himself. His mind weighed heavy with thoughts of foreboding. Try as he might, he couldn’t figure out Silas’s intentions. He and Olivia had surmised that Silas was responsible for Pamela’s long lost family, as well as the anonymous tip to the detective regarding Margaret’s whereabouts. Olivia had long since written letters to Margaret’s cousins, posing as a nun in convent in Paris. She’d mailed them on their first anniversary trip, long before the end of Allerdale Hall.  
No more letters had arrived for her after that. That left the societal acquaintances of Enola. They hadn’t devised a plan for them. Thomas had hopes that after nearly five years of no contact they would have given up. Most had, assuming Enola happy in her new life no doubt, leaving behind her spinsterhood for a fairy tale life in England. Yet, one gentleman continued to write to Enola. Olivia had taken to writing to him as Enola.  
Thomas sat in the his office with the Turkish coffee in his hand, watching the storm clouds slip through the grey sky to cover the over-bright sun. The door creaked as his boys, his sons, snuck into the room. He set his cup down so that Michael and Henry climbed onto Thomas’s lap. He smiled down at them as his arms wrapped around them. They laid their heads on his chest.  
“How are my strong lads this morning?”  
“Good, papa.”  
“Have you eaten?” Henry nodded, a bit of jam still at the corner of his mouth. Thomas took his thumb and wiped it away.  
“Miss Mattie fixed up scones and jam. Hennie didn’t want it at first because she didn’t cut them normally. But they were good, papa.” Henry nodded to confirm his brother’s tale. “Papa, when are we going back to London?”  
“Well, Mimi, your mummy cannot travel right now. And Ava is far too small to make the trip.” Michael sighed. Thomas squeezed him. “What’s wrong?”  
“I wanted to see the little red-haired girl.”  
Thomas smiled out the window. “I will see if your mother will allow you accompany me to London when I leave at the end of the week.”  
“Truly, papa?” Michael sat up, his eyes wide with wonder.  
“Truly, son.” Michael threw his arms around his father’s neck.  
“Me too?” Henry tugged on his father’s waistcoat.  
Thomas shook his head. “Not this time. Michael will come with me this time. You may come next time.” Henry’s bottom lip quivered. “Don’t be sad, Henry. It’s only because you want to play more than your brother and I need to work.” He leaned in. “I’ll get my work finished when Michael’s there so you and I will have plenty of time to play. How’s that sound?” Henry beamed and nodded then slid off his father’s lap and ran from the room.  
Michael laid his head on Thomas’s chest. “Papa, why didn’t Joseph come with me?”  
Thomas stilled beneath his son. “What do you mean?”  
“My friend Joseph. He stayed with Aunt Lu and the red lady.” Michael drew a deep breath. “Only I could see him. He told me that Aunt Lu was his mummy. I miss him.”  
“I do too.” The whisper was soft yet it made his chest tremble with emotion. Thomas kissed the top of Michael’s head.  
“What was that, papa?”  
“Nothing, why do you get dressed and we’ll go down to the pond and let mummy sleep in.”  
“Yes, papa!” Michael popped up and chased after Henry, shouting for his brother. Thomas brought the coffee to his lips but it had grown cold. He left the office empty as he walked back to the bedroom.  
A soft smile curled his lips as he crossed to Ava’s cradle. Olivia’s arm was draped over the side, her pointer finger clutched tightly in his little girl’s fist. He bent and kissed her forehead. His chest squeezed with how close he had come to losing her. Was he destined to feel that sense of near loss with every child he fathered? Was this continued punishment for his fathering Joseph with Lucille? He’d nearly lost Henry and Olivia at his son’s birth. That panicked terror swelled with the memory, brought fresh with Ava’s birth.  
Thomas smoothed a curl back from her forehead then kissed her again. She snuffed and moved her legs, tugging the blanket down. He pulled it back up to her chest and kissed her a third time. His darling little angel. She was most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He loved her as fiercely as he loved her mother.  
He moved around the cradle to kiss Olivia’s cheek. She drew in a deep breath and sighed in her sleep. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Every day, he thanked whatever lay beyond that he’d found her. That she’d chosen him; that she stayed when several times in their first year of marriage she should have ran.  
His heart and head were heavy with his concerns about Silas and remembered pain and emotion from his lost son. He kissed his wife one more time then moved around to his side of the bed. He heard her intake of breath before he felt her fingertips on his back as he leaned forward to lace his boots.  
“Morning, my love.”  
“Good morning, my sweet girl.” He twisted his body as she leaned up and over for a kiss. “You should go back to sleep.”  
“I would but I’m famished.” She slipped quietly and carefully from the bed. Her delicate feet found their slippers, and she shrugged on her dressing down. “Where are you going?”  
“The boys and I are going down to the pond.” He stood and met her at the foot of the bed, pulling her into his arms. He breathed in the scent of her hair. Before he knew, he was crying.  
“Thomas?” He held her tightly, even as his knees gave way and he sunk to the floor. “Thomas, darling, what’s wrong?” She soothed his hair yet he pressed his face into her belly more. “Thomas, please.”  
He looked up at her. “I’ve been the party to indifference and death for so long. I don’t deserve this happiness.”  
“Nonsense, Thomas, you do.” She cupped his face. “You are not to blame for the abuse at the hands of your parents and your sister. You are a victim in this as well.”  
“I don’t deserve you.”  
“Thomas Sharpe, you listen to me, you have atoned for your sins. You have righted your ship, so to speak.” Her thumbs smoothed his cheeks. “What has brought this on?”  
“Michael…do you remember his imaginary friend?”  
“Yes.”  
“It was Joseph. Our son’s imaginary friend was the ghost of my and Lucille’s son.”  
“Wha-“ Olivia sat on the edge of the bed. “How do you know?”  
“He asked me why he hadn’t come with him.”  
“Oh my darling.” Olivia opened her arms. Thomas rose and sat on the foot of the bed next to her. Thomas buried his face in her hair, moving to her neck to feel her pulse flutter on his lips. She kissed his ear, threading her fingers through his hair. “I have an idea.”  
“What’s that?”  
She pulled his face away and cupped his striking jaw in her hands again. “We will give him a memorial stone. By the weeping willow next to the pond.”  
“We don’t have to.”  
“I think we should. I think it would help you grieve Joseph and find closure.”  
“How will we explain it to Michael?”  
“We will approach that subject when it comes.”  
Thomas kissed her deep so he could breathe her in. “You heal me more each day. Perhaps, one day I’ll be whole.” He kissed her once more. A pair of running feet stopped outside the door. A four year and a two year old face waved at him ecstatically. He grinned, stifling a laugh before he stood.  
“Have fun, my loves.” Olivia met Thomas’s eyes as he swept Henry up into his arms. If she healed him by piece by piece, then he did the same for her. One day, she would tell him her deepest pain.


	6. Chapter 6

Michael sat on the catwalk above the production floor. His father’s office door stood open behind him. He looked out over the moving machines, fascinated by all their moving parts. Ever since he’d seen his father’s excavator at work, he’d been enthralled with machines. His legs swung back and forth. He crossed his arms along the bottom rung of the guardrail and rested his chin on them.  
That’s when he saw her. Her fiery red hair flew in pigtails out behind her as she ran. He scrambled to his feet then ran along the catwalk, following her progress. His feet thumped loud on the metal stairs. He thought he heard his father shout, but he couldn’t be bothered. He had a hard enough time following his feet and her. He watched her flit between the machines, topping off buckets of coal from the pail she carried. Then he lost her.  
“Look out!”  
Michael’s attention snapped forward just as he collided with the little red haired girl. Her pail clattered to the floor. She and Michael fell back and landed on their butts.  
“Whachoo on about!” She brushed herself off as she stood up, screwing up her nose as she rested her fists on her hips.  
“I’m sorry, miss.” She flinched then relaxed her fists and arms in surprise. “I just-I’ve seen you and I wanted to know your name.”  
“Fiona, my name’s Fiona.”  
Thomas strode up quickly. “Michael, what have I told you about running off in the factory like that?” He grabbed his son’s arm and jerked him around. Michael blushed bright red and looked at the dirt floor. His attention snapped to the little redheaded girl, Fiona. It dawned on him what happened and his anger drained out of him. “Are you alright?” He looked down, brushing off the boy’s trousers.  
“Yes, Papa.”  
Thomas inclined his chin in Fiona’s direction. “Who’s your friend here?”  
“My-my name is Fiona, Sir Sharpe.”  
Thomas rose to his full height. “Please be careful with my son. His mother would be extremely cross with me if I allowed him to be harmed.” The little girl nodded. “You’ll take good care of him, won’t you?”  
Fiona started to nod then thought better of it. “Yes, Sir Sharpe.”  
“Good girl, now run along and finish your work.”  
“Yes, sir.” The little girl nodded again, grabbed her pail and skittered off. She looked back over her shoulder at Michael, giving him a half-smile as she disappeared into the production floor.  
“I’m sorry I ran off, father.”  
“It’s alright, Michael. Just please be more careful. I meant what I told that little girl. Your mother would string me up by my toes if anything happened to you.” Michael laughed as he pictured his father strung up by his toes and his mother scolding him. “Promise me no more running off.”  
“Yes, Papa.”  
“Now, come on. I need your help with something in the workshop.” Michael’s eyes lit up like sun. It was a rare treat that Papa wanted his help, especially since he rarely worked in the workshop anymore. Not since his hand was hurt. He followed on the heels of his father as they climbed the stairs.  
Over the rest of the week, Michael and Fiona became fast friends. She often took her lunch with him on the catwalk, where she wasn’t supposed to be but could be because she was with Michael, the boss’s son. She would look out over the production floor, her eyes aglow with wonder. It was then Michael felt the first sweet taste of a child’s first love.

The day came to return to Cumbria. Michael fidgeted. He was eager to get back to the puppies that weren’t so small anymore. And to give Henry the present Papa and he had built for his birthday. And to snuggle into his mother’s lap when Henry and Ava weren’t occupying it.  
“Mimi!” Michael looked up from the ground. Thomas paused in his conversation, hearing the little girl’s voice call out to his son. He spared a glance down at Michael, who stood at his feet. Fiona ran up, fiery pigtails flapping like tentacles behind her as she ran.  
“Fifi!” He spared a glance at his father, quickly stamping down his joy, swallowing it and looking at the ground again.  
She stood in front of him, breathless. “I wanted to give you this before you left.” She handed him a small fabric-wrapped box. He cradled it in his hands. “Safe travels.” She kissed his cheek then was off like a shot, back to work before she got in trouble.  
Thomas cleared his throat then finished his conversation. “If anything should arise, do not hesitate to ring me.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Come on then, Michael. We’ve a long day of travel ahead of us.” Thomas laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder.  
“Yes, Papa.” They walked the short distance to the carriage that would take them to the train station. Michael rode with his knees pressed together, the little box riding on them.  
“Well, aren’t you going to open it?”  
Michael looked up from the box to his father, realizing he was staring at it. He swallowed and blushed. “May I?”  
“Go on, then.” Thomas laid his walking stick over his lap and rested his hat atop it as they rode. He smiled gently as the boy carefully unwrapped the fragile fabric and opened the small box. He carefully lifted a small trinket in the shape of a cat.  
Michael’s eyes lit up as he cupped them to look at the cat. It was crude and hand-carved, polished by hand. “She made me a cat.”  
“That was sweet of her. You’re friends then?”  
Michael nodded. “She said her papa didn’t like it but he won’t say why.”  
Thomas leaned over and ruffled the boy’s hair. “It’s probably because you’re so dashing. He’s afraid you two will fall in love when you’re older and you’ll take her away from him.” Michael smiled at the little cat in his palm. That was exactly what he wanted to do.


	7. Chapter 7

Life appeared to be coming up roses for the Sharpes. Ava grew healthy and strong despite her near death. At Henry’s birthday party, her three month mark, she decided to roll.  
Henry tore the tissue paper from the metal steamer that Michael and Thomas had built for him. He squealed in delight and tackled his brother. “Boat, Mimi! Boat!”  
“Yes, Hennie.” Henry climbed up onto his papa’s lap and clapped his hands on either side of his father’s face.  
“Boat, Papa.”  
“Yes, Henry, do you like it?”  
“I wuvs it!” He kissed Thomas dramatically and shimmied off his laugh. Olivia pressed her hand to mouth, giggling behind it.  
Thomas grinned. “What are you laughing at, my sweet girl?”  
“Oh nothing…” Thomas sat up straighter and looked into the mirror over the fireplace. Henry had smeared cream from his birthday cake on Thomas’s face. Thomas grinned wider as he stood. “Thomas…?” He sauntered over to his wife, catching her as she attempted to dart away. “Thomas, no!” She squealed and wriggled in his arms as he rubbed the sweet cream against her cheek from his own.  
His lips brushed her ear. “Careful, darling.” She felt him now, hard against her ass and thigh. She turned slowly in his arms and kissed him deeply, rubbing her thigh against his growing erection. “My love, the children…”  
“Ava is asleep and the boys have run off. No doubt to attempt to float the steamer in the bath.”  
“Then let’s take this someplace more appropriate.” They scurried like newlyweds from the parlor and the presents and cake to his office. Thomas slammed the door behind her then slammed her up against the door. “The doctor has said you are well?”  
“All healed, not nearly the damage Henry caused so not so long to heal.”  
Thomas growled as he fumbled with her skirts to touch her flesh. “Why didn’t you tell me when I returned from London?”  
“Because you were so ti-ti-tired.” She stammered as his long fingers thrust inside her and his thumb pressed her clit.  
“I would have found bottomless energy to make love to you.” Their open mouths pressed together as she gasped. Her cunt clenching around his fingers as they pumped in and out. Olivia reached for his button and zipper. They both groaned when her hand stole inside and grasped his cock firmly.  
From the parlor, Ava shrieked. Olivia frantically pushed him away as he stepped back. She whirled around and threw open the door. Thomas followed on her heels as she ran, overtaking her as they came to the parlor. It was empty save for the crib. The startled parents checked the room but found nothing, earthly or otherwise. Thomas lifted his daughter from the bassinet, cradling her against his chest.  
“I thought you laid her on her back.”  
“I did.”  
“Well, she was on her belly.”  
Olivia blinked and laughed. “She must have rolled over and couldn’t figure out how to get back.” She moved up to Thomas’s side closest to Ava’s face and kissed her forehead. “Was that it, little Rose? You found your belly but couldn’t go anywhere?” The baby snuffled then snuggled deeper into her daddy’s chest.  
Thomas gazed lovingly upon his wife and daughter. His chest tightened with love. He kissed Ava’s forehead then surprised Olivia by kissing her. “I love you, Olivia.”  
“I love you, Thomas.”

Silas drummed his fingers on the desk as he looked out the rain streaked window. He’d been thinking of what to do about this Italian wife. He’d taken pains to discover that Olivia was writing to a man in Italy as the woman. He grinned to himself as the spinning gears finally caught. He knew exactly what he would do.


	8. Chapter 8

Mossimo looked up as the carriage rolled to a stop. He leaned forward, pushing the curtain aside. Physically starting at the barren wasteland, he let the curtain drop before pushing it open again and taking a second look. The patch of earth that stretched out before him bustled with activity. But not the kind he’d been expecting. Miners and workmen hurried around the remains of Allerdale Hall cum Sharpe and Sons Quarry.  
The driver knocked on the carriage door. “This is it, sir. Sharpe and Sons Quarry, former residence of Allerdale Hall.”  
“Is Sir Thomas Sharpe or the Lady Enola about?”  
The driver blinked slowly. He thought the man’s rather thick Italian accent butchered Lady Olivia’s name. “’Fraid not, sir. Sir Thomas and Lady Olivia live in Vermilion Manor up the road.”  
Mossimo frowned. This Englishman butchered Enola’s lovely name. “Then take me there.”  
“Yes, sir.” The little old man closed the carriage door then hopped back into the driver’s seat. He clicked his tongue and gave the reins a snap to set the horses moving again.  
Mossimo leaned back in the seat. It tried for comfort and failed. He couldn’t wait to see the surprise on Enola’s face. His surrogate little sister all grown up and married to the handsome Englishman. She hadn’t spoken about children but maybe they’d had some and she was keeping them a secret for fear of hurting him.  
But if the Italian were completely honest with himself, he could not wait to see the Lady Lucille. She’d captured his attention while she and Thomas were in Milan. Though severe, her beauty had captivated him. He’d spent many nights dreaming and thinking about her. She’d spurned his affections, but maybe after these years of seeing Enola and Thomas happily married, she would give in to him.

Thomas leaned back in his chair. His fingertips dug into the wood of the arm of the chair. The pressure built in his legs. Their muscles shook with the effort to remain slow and steady. He enjoyed this far too much. He opened his eyes slowly and became entranced by the way the muscles of her back moved. He reached forward and ran the palm of his hand up the laces of her bodice. His fingers dug into her shoulder.  
Olivia gasped and dug her nails into his knees. Her calves trembled, stretched taut as she rode his cock, slow and deep. Her toes pressed into the floor as she moved up. His grip tightened on her shoulder then his hand searched through the layers of her skirt until they touched her cunt. He held his hand there, feeling the slow, tortuous slide of his cock in then back out. Her juices coated his fingers then he moved those fingers up to her clit.  
Her throaty moan curled his thin lips into a smile. “Faster, my sweet girl, I’m right there.” His voice shook as he whispered in her ear. Olivia moved faster, her breath hitching. Thomas could make no sound. Well, no intelligible one. His open mouth made a sound of pained pleasure between her shoulders. He felt himself release, hot and pulsing inside her then her thighs clamped around his hand. She slapped her hand on the desk to brace herself as she stuttered to a stop.  
Thomas grinned, sleepy and satisfied. “I’m afraid I’ve soaked your trousers, love. You’ll have to change.”  
“Always, my darling girl.”  
She laughed breathlessly and leaned back into his chest. His arms circled her waist as he too leaned back. “Did the doctor clear Ava for travel?” He brushed the hair from the side of her face and kissed her temple.  
“Not yet, he didn’t like the sound of her lungs. He’s going to check on her every other day until he’s satisfied it’s not whopping cough.”  
“I was hoping he had. I wanted to take you all with me to London.”  
“I know, darling. Maybe next trip, yeah?" She turned to look at him then kiss his jaw.  
Thomas turned her chin so he could look in her eyes. “Or perhaps I could let my factory managers do their job and stay here the week.” He smiled as her eyes lit up.  
“Oh Thomas! Yes, stay! The boys will love it!” She kissed him delightedly then put more into it. The subtle motion of her hips woke his spent his cock. His greedy hands closed around her breasts and kneaded them. A handful of days at a time were not nearly enough for him.   
He stood abruptly and bent her over the desk. Olivia gasped as he flipped her skirt up and plunged deep inside her. His thrusts were hard and fast. Her legs trembled and she reached across the desk, knocking things over. She thought she heard a knock on the door between their labored grunts but she didn’t want to be interrupted.  
He thrust deep and hard, banging her thighs against the desk. His cock head hit her sweet spot over and over. She lifted her ass until she felt the slight pressure of his thumb against her anus. Olivia shouted and pushed back against him. He didn’t need to rub her clit for her to cum with a shout, wetting his trousers a second time. His fingertips pressed into her ass as he pushed his thumb in to the knuckle and held her there. Her ecstatic reaction drove into his balls and he choked on his moan, cumming hard inside her again. This rate she’d be pregnant again before he returned to London.  
The knock came again. This time both of them heard it and made themselves presentable. “Come in.”  
The servant girl blushed. “Forgive the interruption, there’s a gentleman in the front parlor. He said he was here to see you, Sir Thomas. And your wife, Enola?”  
Thomas and Olivia froze. “Excuse me?”  
“I’m sorry, sir. His accent is very thick. I tried to correct him to Olivia, but he kept insisting that it was Enola.”  
Thomas cast a side glance at Olivia. “Can you place his accent, Barbara?”  
She shook her head. “No, Lady Olivia. It’s not one I’ve heard before.”  
“Thank you. Kindly prepare tea for our guest.”  
“Yes, miss.”  
Thomas turned to his wife as soon as the door was shut. “Did Mossimo give you any indication he was coming?”  
“No.” She shook her head, biting her lip. “Do you think my uncle had anything to do with this?” Thomas leveled her with a look. He knew, as well as she did, that he likely had. “I know. It was a stupid question but I had to ask it.”  
Thomas pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead. “We’ll handle this.” And if they couldn’t, they would handle it the way Lucille would have.  
“Mossimo! How good to see you again.” Thomas offered him his hand with a charming grin. The Italian returned the smile. The men shook hands and clapped elbows. “If we had word, I could have arranged a better welcome.”  
“Forgive me, Thomas.” Which he pronounced ‘Toe-MAS’. “I wanted to surprise my little sister. Where is she?” He looked around Thomas’s shoulder but only saw Olivia. His eyebrow rose as he took in the surprising, yet intense quiet beauty of the redhead that stood a few feet behind his ‘brother in law’.  
“She’s not here, I’m afraid.”  
Mossimo looked from Thomas to Oliva, his smile slowly falling. “Well, where is she? I just received a letter from her two weeks ago before I began the journey.”  
The trio looked to the scuffing footsteps in the hall. “Yes, dear niece and nephew, I’d like to know where she is at as well.” Olivia’s eyes widened at Silas’s unexplained and uninvited, not to mention wholly unwelcome presence. She swallowed as she looked to Thomas, away from his demonic grin.


	9. Chapter 9

Barbara’s hands trembled as she served the tea. “Please, Mossimo, sit. You must be tired from your journey.”  
“I am, thank you.” He nodded thanks to Barbara who bowed her head. “Signore Lancaster, I am surprised to see you here.”  
“Aren’t we all?” Olivia tried to make her smile less strained. But Mossimo caught it and frowned.  
His tea cup and saucer clanged as he slammed to the table. “I demand to know what is going on this instant!” He stood straight and tall, glowering at husband and wife. “Where. Is. ENOLA!”  
Silas grinned like the cat that got the canary. Thomas opened his mouth to speak. But it was Olivia who stood up. “Mossimo, it’s me! I’m the one who’s been writing you.”  
Thomas’s head snapped around. Her uncle’s face fell into a mask while Mossimo’s face just fell. “What?”  
“She- what I mean to say-“ Olivia twisted her handkerchief between her hands.  
“I do not understand. Miss Olivia, please explain.”  
“Oh Mossimo, I’m so very sorry.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “You see…you see, Lucille-“ She looked at Thomas who shook his head no. “But, my love, we must.”  
“No, we can’t.”  
Olivia grabbed Thomas’s hand and clutched it tightly. “She’s dead. We can. We should. We must.”  
“Who’s dead?”  
Thomas dropped his chin to his chest and looked away, but did not let go of her hand. “Enola is dead.” Mossimo staggered back to the chair and sat heavily. “She…Lucille poisoned her.” He buried his face in his hands and cried. The room fell awkwardly silent save for the man’s soft sobs.  
“Where is she?” He sniffed and brought his head up, not bothering to wipe his eyes.  
“She’s dead.”  
“Not Enola, woman! Lucille! Where is she!”  
Olivia frowned. “She’s dead. And you’ll address me with respect in my home.”  
Mossimo jerked as if slapped. “Your home?”  
“Yes, my home.”  
Thomas squeezed her hand as he stood. “This is my wife, Olivia.”  
Mossimo swallowed. He seethed, his shoulders rising and falling dramatically. “How long?” Thomas and Olivia looked at each other then back to Mossimo. “Was she even in the ground before you’d wed this one! How long!” He whipped around and struck Thomas’s cheek with his balled up fist. Olivia cried out in surprise. She heard Silas snort in the corner. So did Mossimo. “You knew.” He turned slowly to face Silas. “You knew and you encouraged me to visit anyway.”  
He stalked over to the rotund old man and struck him soundly in the face then spit on him . “Mossimo, please-“ Olivia lightly touched his shoulders but he shrugged her off, a look of disgust on his face. She dropped her hands. “Please calm down. I understand you’re upset. Allow us to put you up for the night.”  
“Keep your hands off me, whore.”  
Olivia gasped. Thomas growled and bodily checked the Italian against the door. “You will not call my wife a whore.”  
“Or you’ll what? Kill me?”  
“No, I’ll beat you soundly then throw you out in the street. Olivia is innocent in all this and you owe her an apology.”  
“Release me, Sharpe or I’ll go to the authorities.”  
“Go ahead. Enola wasn’t the only wife of mine my sister poisoned. Were it not for her sick obsession with me, I would have likely fallen to her madness.” Thomas let the man loose from the wall. “Joshua will show you to a room for the night. If you will allow it.”  
Mossimo smoothed his coal black hair, not unlike Thomas’s, then tugged his waistcoat down. “Very well, we will discuss things more in the morning. Do not vanish, Sir Thomas Sharpe.”  
“I have no intention to.” Mossimo spared a scathing glance for Olivia and Silas behind her. Thomas turned to rage at his wife’s uncle. Olivia shocked them both by wheeling around and slapping the man in the jowls.  
“You get out of my house.” Thomas grabbed Olivia’s upper arms as she drew back to hit her uncle again. “Now! Get out, Silas! GET OUT!” Thomas pressed his lips together, the only show of the effort he put forth to restrain his fury of a wife. Silas grit his teeth but wisely made no comment as he left husband and wife to tend to the fallout of his meddling.


	10. Chapter 10

Mossimo sat in the opulent guest room alone. When Joshua had shown him the room, he’d slammed the door in his face. Under normal circumstances, he would never think of being that rude to anyone, even a servant. He’d paced the room and had a good mind about him to trash it. But his better sensibilities won out.  
A servant girl came at supper hour with a tray that smelled divine. She introduced herself as Annie. He slammed the door in her face as well. When she returned for the tray, he hadn’t eaten a bite.  
“You there, girl.”  
“Yes, sir?” She turned to him, balancing the tray on one hand with her hand on the door knob.  
“Bring something to drink.”  
“What would you like, sir? Wine, tea, coffee, spirits?” Mossimo wanted wine and something stronger and told her so. “I will be but a moment.” When she returned, she came bearing an uncorked bottle of wine and a decanter of cognac, a tumbler and goblet, as well as a small bucket of ice, tongs and a corkscrew. He had to give it to the Sharpes. They were the model of hospitality, all things considered. “Would you like anything else, sir?”  
“No.” He remained standing by the window, effectively dismissing her.  
Mossimo remained in the room, finishing off both the bottle and the decanter in his grief. His beloved sister murdered by the very woman he had hoped to court and marry. In both their places, a charming beauty who had filled his life with joy under a ruse. His thoughts crashed and raged against each other. His impotence in the situation all too galling. And what did Signore Lancaster have to gain?  
The sun set and all too soon rose. The household fell to sleep then awakened. He heard the laughter of children, boys, and their thunderous chase past his closed door. The servant girl returned, leaving him a tray of breakfast, complete with a steaming mug of coffee.  
“You girl.”  
“Yes, sir?” Annie opened the door to the bathroom and checked that there were towels available should their guest desire a bath. There were some but there could be more. She would bring more when she returned for his breakfast tray.  
“What is your opinion of your employers?”  
Annie smiled. “I have never known such happiness.” She took a step toward him.  
“Explain.”  
“I came from a terrible place. Born poor and sold into servitude. I was given a job at the factory in London but Lady Olivia had other plans. She bought my debt then burned it.”  
“So you are free. Here by choice?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Tell me why.”  
“Lady Olivia and Sir Thomas are kind and generous. They come from a place of sadness. They know what it’s like to feel despair and hopelessness.”  
“Have they every hurt you or anyone else?”  
She shook her head. “No, sir.” She blushed. “Though they hurt each other on occasion…in moments of passion.”  
Mossimo blinked then recovered. “What do you know of Silas Lancaster?”  
Sarah frowned. “Lady Olivia hates him, sir. He is not welcome here. His presence sets her on edge.”  
“That was the impression I felt last night.” He had one more question. “What do you know of the Lady Lucille?”  
Sarah shook her head. “Nothing, sir. Except she was loved very much by Thomas and Olivia and died in the collapse of Allerdale Hall.”  
“Thank you for you candor, Annie.”  
“You’re welcome, sir.”  
Mossimo waited until the door was shut behind the girl before he tore into the meal. He hadn’t eaten since the meal on the train. Starved by his grief and rage then by the alcohol, his stomach growled even as the Italian devoured everything given to him.  
Laughter from the lawn drew his attention to the window. He watched the brothers play with a gaggle of young dogs. How they resembled their mother, he thought. Were it not for the drastic difference in hair color they could pass for twins when they grew into men. He hadn’t even known he’d begun to smile until it fell. Why did it fall? Because Thomas Sharpe joined the young boys’ gaiety.  
Mossimo turned away from the window and made his way to the bathroom. To his delight and relief, the water ran hot and soon he was out of his traveling clothes and into the water. Once he’d washed away the journey and the drunkenness, he let it go down the drain.  
A knock at the door paused his hand before he’d begun to shave. “Come.”  
Annie swept in. “Fresh towels, sir.” She ignored the fact that he was well built and handsome, as well as naked save for a towel wrapped around his slender hips. “I’ll return later to pick up your dirties, sir. Would you like your clothing laundered?”  
“Yes, please.” He watched her bustle about the room, gathering his things with care.  
“I’ll have Jacob shine your shoes, sir.”  
“Thank you.” He recovered as swept the tray up and headed for the door. “Girl, my luggage?”  
“It’s stacked in the entryway. I’ll have Joshua bring it up.” He blinked as she closed the door behind her.  
Finally, the cry of a baby drew him from the room, late in the afternoon. He followed the sound of it to a parlor where she sat. His breath caught at the sunlight in her hair. Her lovely smiled compounded her beauty. He watched her from the doorway, humming softly to the little one at her breast.  
Olivia looked up from Ava at the scuffing of his feet. “Mossimo.”  
“Olivia, may I come in?”  
“Of course, have a seat.” She stood and gently laid her daughter in the cradle then discretely fixed her breast. "What can I do for you?"  
“I need to know what happened to my sister.”  
She sat on the edge of the chair, no perched. He noticed the way her eyes grew sad, matching the smile on her full lips. He fought the urge to kiss her. This was a married woman after all. His gaze left her inviting mouth to her elegant throat. He was slightly surprised to find dark bruises there. No, they were bite marks. Color filled his cheeks and he dropped his gaze further, only to rest them on her breasts. The loose peasant neckline allowed extra room for her swollen breasts but not for modesty. He unconsciously licked his lips as he made out the shape of her areola and the darker nipple itself.  
“Mossimo?”  
His gaze snapped up. She didn’t appear scandalized or offended. “Forgive me, lady.”  
She waved it off. “There’s not much I can tell you. Only what Thomas told me and what I know of Lucille.” She looked over at the cradle, very aware that things could have gone very differently. “I could have been her.”  
“Her who?”  
“Enola…or Lucille.”  
“I do not understand, Lady Sharpe.”  
“Please, Mossimo, call me Olivia.” She sighed. “Thomas and Lucille had a very unorthodox relationship. They essentially prostituted him out to keep the house going and to fund the harvestor.”  
Mossimo shook his head. “That is absurd.”  
“Absurd but true, I’m afraid. You see, I’m Thomas’s fourth wife. Enola was his third.”  
“And the other two?”  
She sighed again and looked down at her lap. “Lucille was extremely jealous and volatile. She couldn’t bear the thought of Thomas with his wives. So she poisoned them.”  
“But what of their bodies?”  
“I don’t know the answer to that. Neither does Thomas. Lucille was responsible for everything.”  
“And he simply allowed this to happen?”  
Olivia met his gaze. “You don’t know what it’s like to live in fear of someone you love. To be trapped by their love and their need. To need them and love them as much as you fear them. He allowed it to happen as you say because Lucille was all he ever knew of love.”  
Mossimo scoffed. “Three wives and he loves his sister more?”  
“Her love was an intense love. One that destroyed what it touched.” She looked down at her hands.  
“What made you so different?”  
“I've asked myself that, as well as Thomas. He told me that he saw himself in my eyes. His guilt and sadness reflected back at him. I understood him. I saw him. And I didn’t run.”  
“He loved you.”  
She nodded. “Loves, he loves me, Mossimo. And I love him.” She smiled and it lit her face. "We saved each other."  
“How did you escape her?”  
“Michael, my son from my late husband was still at the breast when Thomas and I met and married. I believe they were going to raise my son as their own when I was gone. So in order to keep him safe, Thomas convinced Lucille to wait to poison me until he was off the breast.”  
“That sounds ghastly.”  
“I won’t deny that.”  
“But she didn’t poison you.”  
“No, she did not.” Olivia smiled sadly and wiped away the tear that ran down her cheek. “Lucille and I fell in love. Though she would never love me as much or as fiercely as she loved Thomas, our love stayed her hand. Then I became pregnant with Henry.”  
Mossimo knew she did not mean sisterly love. He could tell by the sadness in her eyes. “What happened, Olivia?”  
“Her jealousy and madness refused to let her be happy with us. She wanted Thomas to herself, but this love she felt for me and the boys confused her and tore her up.” She met his eyes. “I believe had we not fled from Allerdale she would have killed us all.”  
“Even her brother?”  
“Yes…”  
Mossimo combed his fingers through his damp hair. “I find myself at a loss, Olivia.” When she didn’t speak, he charged forward. “I want justice for my sister but it seems it has already been done. I cannot punish a dead woman. Nor an innocent woman.”  
“And Thomas?”  
Mossimo frowned. “I liked Thomas when he came to Milan. I thought their marriage was rushed, but I had no intention of marrying Enola so I did not stand in her way of happiness. But I cannot forgive for this.”  
“I understand. And so does he.” Olivia stood crossed to the side board and poured him a whiskey. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands. The touch of her finger on the back of his hand twisted his insides. His fingers laced with hers as he took the tumbler from her delicate hand. “I cannot replace her.”  
Mossimo switched the glass to his left hand and knocked it back, taking hold of her wrist. “Your words brought me great comfort and happiness these last few years. I had come here seeking my sister and my reluctant rose and instead, I find you.”  
“Mossimo, I cannot be them. I cannot replace them in your heart.”  
He stood. “You said you could have been her.”  
“Yes well, I meant to say I could have been murdered like Enola or mad like Lucille. I know abuse and despair and madness.”  
“But you’re not. You’re alive and whole.” He used his hold on her wrist to pull her against his body. “And just as lovely as them both.” He kissed her. Olivia gasped in her surprise. Mossimo seized the opportunity and plunged his tongue forward. He walked her back against the side board then dropped his lips to her throat. He kissed the bruise there and felt her shudder in his arms.  
“Mossimo, stop this.” He gathered her skirt in his hands until he touched her thighs. Olivia swallowed. “I am not Enola.” She tried to close her legs, but he forced them back open. He bit her hard on top of the bruise. Olivia gasped louder, pain edged sharply with pleasure. Her hands gripped his shirt and held him back. “Please stop, my friend. I am not Lucille.” She tried to close her legs again.  
The Italian straightened abruptly and slapped her.  
Tears swam in her eyes, but she didn't let go of his shirt. “I am Thomas’s. I belong to him.” He slapped her again. “Mossimo, please stop this.” He unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, crushing his mouth to hers. He felt her sobs against his chest. His feral eyes looked down on her. A sadness ghosted through her eyes. “If you must do this to punish us then I will accept it.”  
He jerked. Her hands in his shirt reached for his face and he jerked again as if burned. It wasn’t her touch that burned. It was his throat and his eyes. He frantically looked around the room. His stomach churned with the knowledge of what he’d been about to do. He darted for the nearest bin and vomited up his breakfast and some of the wine and cognac from the night before. Olivia sat next to him and hushed his choking sobs between his wretches. Her fingers combed through his hair.  
He lay on the floor, curling into a fetal position with his head in her lap. She hummed softly to him as he cried. That is how Thomas found them. He shielded his sons from the scene.  
“Michael, take Henry to the kitchen and have Barbara give you a biscuit.”  
"Yes, Papa." The boys ran off down the hall.  
He stepped into the room cautiously. “Livi, is everything alright?” He quickly took in the tears on her face then angry red welt where she’d been slapped. He clenched his jaw and his fists, his nostrils flaring. Yet, she shook her head.  
“We’re fine, my dearest love.”  
Thomas wasn’t convinced. In fact, he could tell she was shaken and he longed to pull her into his arms. “If you’re sure.”  
“I am. Give us a moment and we’ll join you for tea, yea?”  
“Alright, my love.” Thomas closed the door and left them alone. His gut twisted with guilt and anger, but he trusted his wife.  
Olivia urged Mossimo to sit up. “Better?”  
He nodded. “Please forgive me, Olivia. I do not know what came over me.”  
“Grief, rage, frustration.”   
“Would you have truly let me take you against your will?”  
“Yes.” Mossimo felt more shameful with this knowledge. “When we leave this room, we will act like nothing happened. Understand?”  
“Understood…what will you tell Thomas?”  
“My husband is an old friend of sorrow. I will handle it.” Mossimo looked in her lovely face. Perhaps he saw what Thomas saw, for in that moment, she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. His shame for having nearly violated her doubled upon itself. He vowed to protect her at all costs. He had lost a sister and gained another. Olivia stiffened when he threw his arms around her but relaxed into the hug when he simply held her. They didn’t know it but they had the same thought. What had Silas to gain from bringing this about?


	11. Chapter 11

Early morning sun cut through the curtains. It slashed across Thomas’s eyes. The warmth woke him yet blinded him. He couldn’t close his eyes fast enough. His head jerked away from the light. He rolled over and into the warmth of his wife’s body.  
Olivia sighed in her semi-conscious state. She snuggled into him. “No, no, Ava slept through the night. Don’t wake us up.”  
Thomas smiled and settled deeper into the bed and the covers. His arm wrapped around her waist. His lips found her bare shoulder. “Are you sure about that?” Desire dropped her in belly as his hand trailed fingertips down her abdomen. It slipped under the skirt of her nightgown.  
She hummed. “Maybe not.” His fingers worked between her thighs as she pushed her ass into his growing cock. Words stopped. Thomas rolled her onto her back and kissed her deeply, taking her breath away with his passion.  
He pulled the neckline of her gown down to expose her breasts to his ardent kisses and eager teeth. He pulled the skirt of it up, bunching it on her belly. She settled back into the bed as he lifted her leg and kissed down it, open-mouthed and wet. Her mouth opened little by little. She bit her lip, smiling and opened her legs more, lifting her hips off the bed. His hot breath ghosted over her mound.  
He hummed. “Breakfast.” Her eyes closed as his warm tongue drew circles around her clit. His hand closed over her breast, massaging it firmly. He moaned as she began to move, pushing her cunt into his face. He sucked her clit, slipping two fingers inside her. One hand grabbed the bed, the other his hair as his fingers and tongue worked her closer. Her chest heaved as she tried to be quiet so as not to wake the baby. Her face pinched as he brought her over.  
Olivia’s gasping mewls quieted as he covered her mouth with his. She tasted herself on his tongue. She had but a moment before held her thigh and took her, his cock filling her. She whined at the feeling. He pulled away only to plunge his tongue back into her mouth. Her nails found his back and added more scratches to those that were already healing. Their moans mingled in their mouths. Each stroke was deep and too her core. But it was over far too fast for her liking.  
Thomas kissed down her throat to her chest, covering her again. “Something that matter, darling?”  
“I was about to ask you the same question.”  
Thomas sat at the foot of the bed then stood. “What do you mean?”  
Olivia threw back the covers and followed him into the bathroom. The water ran hot into the tub as he turned the knobs. “Not to be indelicate but that was the shortest fuck we’ve had since Allerdale.”  
Thomas lathered his face, looking at her reflection in the mirror. “Darling, we’ve been at each other like rabbits. Even my stamina is going to take a hit. You’re insatiable.”  
Olivia blushed then laughed. “So it’s not me?”  
Thomas blinked and laid down his straight razor. “Of course it’s not you. Well, technically it IS you because you’re draining my balls dry, darling.” He grinned.  
“Oh you prick.” She slugged his shoulder. He grabbed her about the waist and kissed her, smearing the shaving lather on her face. “Look at what you did.” She smeared the lather off her face.  
“Then let’s just clean you up, my sweet.” Olivia whooped as Thomas swept her up and stepped into the tub and sat down with her. Water splashed over the edge of the tub and soaked the floor. She couldn’t stop laughing as Thomas kissed and bit her throat, growling playfully. Ava took that moment to let out a wail.  
Olivia sighed. “I’d better go tend to the little princess.”  
Thomas sighed and laid back in the tub, stretching out his long body. They’d had to specially order the tub so he could do that. “I’ll be out in a minute.” His cock twitched as his simply beautiful wife pushed the nightgown off her shoulders. It thumped wetly to the floor. She looked over her shoulder at him as she stepped out of the wet fabric. He reached for her but she kept walking. His fingers brushed the back of her thigh.  
Olivia pulled on her dressing gown and tied it before lifting Ava from the cradle. The raven-haired angel smiled up at her mother. Olivia nuzzled her nose to the baby’s. She couldn’t believe it had been nearly three months since her birth. In fact, today was her monthly checkup. Hopefully, Dr. Adams would clear Ava for travel and they could all go to London next week.

Michael and Henry shouldered each other at the table. Olivia looked at Thomas over her tea cup. He raised his eyebrow but said nothing. Their whispers of ‘you ask him’ ‘no you ask him’ piqued their parents’ interest but neither adult spoke.  
“Morning, Sharpe family.” Mossimo strode into the dining room, tugging on his waistcoat. He placed a kiss on Olivia’s offered cheek then ruffled the heads of both boys. He spared a curt nod for Thomas then sat as far away from the man as the table allowed.  
The whispering continued, giving Mossimo pause as he sipped his coffee. Olivia sipped and set down her book forcefully. “Boys, kindly enlighten us which he you are asking what.”  
Michael pushed his eggs around on his plate. “Henry and I were wondering if Mr. Mossimo could come on the hunting trip with us.” He hurriedly shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth.  
Olivia lifted her teacup. “I think that would be an excellent idea.”  
Thomas frowned behind his paper. He wasn’t comfortable with the Italian being armed when there were going to be little to no witnesses. He might enact some kind of revenge. He shifted the paper slightly to see Mossimo’s face. The man was frowning as well.  
Michael glanced at Henry then his mother. She too frowned as the bottom lips of the boys began to tremble. “Oh for Christ sake, answer him!” She slammed the teacup down, breaking the saucer and surprising all four of them.  
Thomas closed the paper and slammed it on the table with equal force. Husband and wife glared at each other across the table. Henry’s soft crying at his parents’ unexpected anger shook Olivia first. She pushed back the chair and walked around the table to her youngest son. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her shoulders. She stood and held out her hand for Michael.   
“Come on, boys. We’ll go out and feed the ducks.”  
“Yes, mummy.” Michael scooted back his chair.  
Olivia glared hard at her husband then shot an equally icy glare at their houseguest. She set Henry down at the doorway then leaned in. Her harsh words were directed at both men, but they stung Thomas the most. “Sort it!” Then she slammed the door, leaving the men to uncomfortable silence.   
Thomas sipped his coffee then sighed. “I do love her passion, even when it doesn’t favor me.”  
Mossimo looked at him. “What does that mean?”  
“It means that I’m an ass.” He set his cup down. “Though I’m not comfortable with it, would you like to join the boys and I on our hunting trip?”  
“I do not feel comfortable either.”  
“That is one thing we have in common then. It would please my loves greatly if you would join us. It’s a day in the woods not far from here. We leave in morning and we’ll return at sundown.”  
“For Olivia and the boys, I will go.” Neither man trusted the other and both rightly feared that something might and could happen.

Dr. Adams listened to Ava’s lungs. The green-eyed little lovely tried to grab his stethoscope and pull it into her mouth. She cooed and gave a half giggle, reaching for his handlebar mustache as the man made faces at her.  
“Lady Sharpe, I think this little one is doing marvelously.” Ava looked away from Dr. Adams and reached for something above her, kicking wildly.  
“Will she be able to handle a trip to London?”  
“I don’t see why not.” He sat on the sofa and scribbled on a piece of paper. “Should anything come up, I went to medical school with this gentleman. I have faith that he would take excellent care of Ava should she need it.”  
“Thank you, Dr. Adams.” Olivia hugged the older man and kissed his cheek. He blushed fiercely, the red climbing into his receding hairline.  
“You’re quite welcome. Missing city life?”  
She smiled and shook her head. “No, missing my husband when he’s gone for weeks at a time.”  
“But he’s been around a great deal lately.”  
It was her turn to blush. “I convinced him to stay until Ava was able to travel.”  
Dr. Adams patted her hand. “There’s nothing wrong with a woman needing her husband. You young ladies are becoming more independent. It’s nice to see a woman so dependent on her husband.”  
Olivia blinked and pulled back. “I’m afraid you misunderstand my need for him. It’s not dependence, good doctor. It’s love. It’s passion. It’s companionship.”  
Dr. Adams gathered his things as Olivia lifted the baby into her arms. Ava’s hands went straight for Olivia’s ringlets. “Good day, Lady Sharpe.”  
“Good day, Dr. Adams.” She and the baby saw him to the door and shut it firmer than necessary.   
Thomas strode up the hall. “How are the most beautiful women in the world doing this afternoon?” Ava reached for her daddy and he happily obliged. She reached for his mouth and nose. He saw the frown on his wife’s face. “Something wrong, darling?”  
“Ava’s fine. Dr. Adams cleared her for travel.” She started to walk away, heading in the direction of the library.  
Thomas caught her elbow. “Darling.”  
Oh, she hated when he used the firm tone on her outside of the bedroom. Olivia sighed and turned to him. “Have I become overly dependent on you?”  
Thomas laughed. “Whatever do you mean?”  
Olivia chewed her bottom lip as she looked away. He reached out and turned her face gently back toward him. “I told Dr. Adams about convincing you to stay until Ava was cleared for travel. He said it was nice to see a woman so dependent on her husband since women my age are becoming more independent from their husbands and men in general.”  
Thomas frowned at the pinch on her brow. “Olivia, you are far from dependent on me. If anything, I am dependent on you.” He stepped into her. “That’s what marriage is, isn’t it? Husband and wife depending on the other? Working together to build a life, a family, a future.”  
She smiled. “My once cynical, jaded, lost Thomas, how different your outlook is now.”  
He smiled down at her. “I owe it all to you.” Their lips met and she closed her eyes. Ava leaned in, open-mouthed and kissed them where their mouths met. Her hands went into both of their hair. Thomas and Olivia laughed as they tried to untangle from the baby’s hands.

The following morning, Olivia, Ava and Matilda stood on the front steps of Vermilion Manor and waved as the open carriage rode off with Thomas, Michael, Henry and Mossimo. Henry stood on the seat next to their Italian houseguest and waved at his mother and sister and nanny until they were out of sight.  
Mossimo kept his eyes on Thomas. The Englishman didn’t cringe or cower under the man’s gaze. He simply sat and enjoyed the carriage ride to the hunt. The kennel master waved as they approached. Michael bounced in his seat at the sight of the dogs.  
“Papa, can we play with the dogs?”  
“Not until after the hunt, Mimi.” The little boy’s shoulders slumped. “They have to remain focused.” Thomas bowed his head slightly to try to see his son’s downcast face. “You want to get your mother a pretty fox pelt, don’t you?” Michael shrugged. “By my estimate, two or three pelts would make your mother a lovely stole.”  
He perked up a bit. “It would match her hair.”  
“That’s a lad.” Thomas clapped his back. “Jacob Southard said the foxes had over bred this year and they were practically tripping over them."  
“I’ve never hunted fox before, Sharpe.”  
“My father used to drag me on traditional fox runs.” Thomas looked out past Mossimo’s head. “They would set the dogs loose then we would run them down on horseback.” The Italian was confused by the pain and disgust that seemed to edge the Englishman’s words. “I found it all barbaric. Eventually, my father stopped taking me when I ‘couldn’t shoot worth a good goddamn’.”  
“Then why take your sons on a hunt?”  
“We will not be on horseback, Monsieur Rigoletti.” The carriage stopped at the edge of the clutch of activity. “I like hunting with Southard because he’s as fair to the animals as a hunter can be.” Thomas climbed out of the carriage and helped the boys down.  
Jacob Southard, an old friend made new again, clapped Thomas on the shoulder. “Glad you could make it, old boy. How’s Livi and Ava?”  
“They’re doing splendidly.”  
“I’ll make sure Abigail calls on her for tea soon.”  
“Livi would like that.”  
“Abby would too. She’s all gung-ho about this suffrage movement. But with Stephen still at the breast, she’s absolutely stir crazy.”  
“Well, be sure to send her by before the end of the week. We’ll be going to London for a time.”  
“Work never stops.” The kennel master signaled to Jacob that they were ready. “Alright Thomas, who’s your friend?”  
“This is Mossimo Rigoletti. He’s a friend of my wife’s come to visit.”  
“Pleasure.” Jacob shook his hand firmly. “Jacob Southard. Now, I don’t know if Thomas explained anything to you.”  
“No, he didn’t.”  
“Right then, Thomas will take Michael and three dogs, as well as a handler. I’ll take Henry, three dogs and a handler. You’ll go with three dogs and a handler. And those two gentlemen over there will take three dogs and a handler. These woods are lousy with fox this year.”  
“Might I ask why?”  
“We didn’t hunt them last year. We hunt them down to sustainable numbers then we give them a year, essentially to breed.”  
“That’s very forward thinking of you.”  
Jacob smiled. “You can thank a pilgrimage to India for that.”  
Henry tugged on Thomas’s leg. “Can I go with you, Papa?”  
“Of course, Michael, you will go with Jacob. Do what he says, no sass.”  
“Yes, Papa.”  
Then the hunt was on. The men split up and went into the woods on foot. They weren’t in their long before the first shots went off. Thomas and Henry walked along with the handler and the dogs, shots popping off around them. The dogs signaled and were let loose.  
Thomas scooped up Henry and ran in pursuit. They stopped far enough back. The dogs had cornered a pair of young males. Thomas sighed and shot the beasts. Perhaps Mossimo was right. Why bring his sons on something that he didn’t fully enjoy? If he shot one more fox and was able to have a stole made for Olivia, this would be his last hunt.  
He wondered how Michael and Jacob were fairing. He didn’t wonder long. The dogs signaled and took off, running down a feisty female at the foot of tree. Thomas shot her, taking it as a sign that this was his last hunt. Even though he’d felled the fox, the dogs didn’t stand down. The handler and Thomas called the dogs off but they refused to budge.  
“Bloody fucking mutts!” He stalked closer, holding his rifle in the center. Henry followed behind, not quite sure what was going on. Thomas’s heart sunk when they finally got the hounds back. The female was in fact a mother. Her kits cried from their den in the roots of the tree.  
“Basil, take the dogs back to camp.”  
“Are you sure, sir?”  
“Yes, Henry and I will take care of the little ones.” Thomas waited for the dogs to be far enough away before he reached into the hole and pulled onto the kits out, receiving a bit on the hand for his effort. He held it by the scruff as he reached in for the other one. Again, the little foxling nipped his hand, the sharp teeth bloodying him a second time.  
“Papa, you hurt.”  
“I’ll be fine. Can you carry one of them, Henry?”  
“Can I!” The small boy reached for one of the kits. It growled and squeaked but Henry’s gloves and thick sleeves prevented it from scratching or biting him. The loveable little boy petted the terrified fox like a cat until the trembling thing curled against him. Thomas took his son’s lead and did the same thing.  
A rustling drew Thomas’s attention. His eyes widened in fear at the barrel of the rifle pointed at his head. Mossimo licked his lips. His finger twitched on the trigger. Thomas made no move. If the Italian chose to pull the trigger, he would deserve it.  
“Papa, I think it likes me.” Henry looked up at Thomas. He followed his father’s gaze to Mossimo. The Italian didn’t lower his weapon. “Momo, what’s wrong?”  
Thomas looked away from the gun pointed at his head. “Henry, why don’t you take your fox and go wait by the tree we passed that you liked so much?”  
“Yes, Papa.”  
Thomas watched his son until he stopped at the tree that was far enough away but still close enough for him to see. “If you’re going to kill me, I don’t want you doing it in front of my son.”  
“I should. You deserve it.”  
“I’m not going to argue that. I was indifferent and cold to terrible things.”  
“You’re not going to beg for your life?” Mossimo frowned but didn’t lower the rifle even as his arm began to cramp.  
“No, it’s not mine anymore.” Thomas watched him from underneath his eyebrows, stroking the baby fox. It’s fur very nearly the color of Olivia’s hair.  
“I don’t understand.”  
“My life, everything I have now, might have been built on innocent blood, but it was saved by love. My life belongs to Olivia.”  
“Explain.”  
“I was dead before I found her. She saved me. Her love brought me back to life. I cannot change the things I have done. I do not expect forgiveness. Yet, before you pull that trigger, think of Olivia. And Michael and Henry and Ava. Hasn’t there been enough death?”  
“Yours would be the end.”  
“Would it? I know my Livi. You would kill a piece of her. Is that what you want?”  
“You are no man. You are a coward. Hiding behind your wife.”  
“So be it then. I cannot bear the thought of my sweet girl dying inside. Please, think of her.”  
Mossimo wanted to take pleasure in the man cowardly begging for his life. But he was right. No matter how much he wanted to pull that trigger, he couldn’t hurt Olivia in that manner. Mossimo sighed and lowered the gun. He inclined his chin to the kit in Thomas’s hands. “Are you going to kill it?”  
“No, I think Olivia would adore this sweet pair.” The two men looked at each other for a long moment. Henry ran up.  
“Papa, papa, take it. I gotta pee.”  
“Hand it here then. Go behind that tree, son.”  
Mossimo looked at Thomas. “You know you are only alive because I cannot hurt Olivia. Or your sweet children.”  
“I know.” The two men walked silently behind the little boy back to the camp.


	12. Chapter 12

The pair of kits lay curled together in the corner of a box. Said box rode on the floor of the carriage. Henry kept peeking underneath the blanket to look at them. Maybe to make sure they were still there and hadn’t run off when he wasn’t looking.   
“Henry, leave the little foxlings alone. Let them rest.”  
Michael chimed in. “Do you think mummy will like her gift?”  
“The stole or the foxes, Michael?”  
“Both, Papa.”  
“I don’t know, Michael. I don’t see why she wouldn’t love them both.”  
The carriage halted and the men disembarked. Henry and Michael ran ahead of them. “Do you mind if I accompany you to London, Thomas? I’ve some business to take care of.”  
“I don’t mind at all. Do you need a place to stay while in town?”  
“No, I’ll make arrangements when we arrive.”  
“Olivia and I have a house round Regent’s Park if you’d like to use the guest room.”  
“Why thank you for your hospitality, Sharpe.” Mossimo didn’t trust Thomas completely. The man had admittedly been party to 3 murders. If he felt that Mossimo presented a danger to his family, he might decide to commit one this time.  
Thomas set the box at Olivia’s feet. “An unexpected present, my darling.”  
“What is it?” She handed him Ava who clutched his face and gave him a sloppy open-mouthed kiss to the cheek. He watched his wife pull back the corner of the blanket. “Thomas, I thought you went to hunt them not bring them home.”  
“Darling, they’re babies. I shot their mother. I didn’t have the heart to leave them in wild to be plucked off by a predator.”  
“So I’m to raise them?” She looked up at him incredulously.  
Mossimo saw the opportunity. “I had heard they behave almost like cats when domesticated.”  
Thomas smiled at the Italian. She reached in and lifted one of the sleepy bundles. It blinked as she scrutinized it. There! He saw her soften then her eyes flicked to him and she schooled her face. “Very well, I will try to domesticate them.” The boys shouted in glee. “But-BUT if they should harm the children in any way other than a puppy or kitten would, or if they refuse to be domesticated, you will have to take them back to the forest.”  
“Of course, my sweet.”  
~  
Thomas sighed as he slipped into bed. It’d been a long day and this felt like heaven, especially with his wife next to him. He rolled over to press his body to hers. His hand received a nip. “Ow, what in the-“ He pulled back the covers to find the pair of kits, who had taken baths with their new ‘mother’ curled into a circle by her belly. Well, it had been his idea. He smiled as he rolled onto his back and tucked his arm under his head.  
~  
Annie grasped the headboard, her moans becoming high-pitched. Mossimo palmed her breast then leaned up to draw it into his mouth. He braced his feet on the bed, thrusting upward as the pretty little English girl rode him. He groaned, meeting his release then lay back on the pillows. She collapsed on his chest, breathing heavily.  
“You’re quite the lover, Mr. Rigoletti.”  
“Please Annie, call me Mossimo or Momo.”  
The servant girl rolled off of him and settled into the bed for a moment. “That would imply familiarity, sir.” She sat up, despite her growing comfort and reached for her dressing gown. “You’re an Italian aristocrat. And I’m an English servant. I know my place. Mr. Lancaster saw to that.”  
Mossimo sat up. “You worked for Silas?”  
“I did. So did Matilda, the boys’ nanny.”  
“What can you tell me about him?” Annie tied the gown about her waist, but her slender body caused the top to gape.  
“He is evil, cruel and abusive. He’s a drunk and a pervert.” She squared her shoulders. “Lady Olivia is right to hate him and wish him dead. He couldn’t have her so he was cruel to her most of all.”  
“Have her? I do not understand.”  
“He couldn’t fuck her. Mrs. Lancaster forbade it. She told him she could stomach living with a pervert but never a monster. There were rumors…” She opened the door a crack. “Thank you, Mr. Rigoletti. I had a nice time.” She smiled sweetly at the door and let it close behind her.


	13. Chapter 13

Thomas sat in his office, pouring over things that had piled up while he’d remained at Vermilion with Olivia and the children. Documents that needed his attention, purchase agreements, items from the board of directors and a letter.  
He sighed as he slid the letter opener under it. As he read, the irritated line on his face became a frown and sadness swept through his eyes.  
‘Misser Sharpe, sir.  
You don’t know me but my name is Lydia. My younger sister, my father and I worked in your factory. After my mother died, my father had nothing but work and us and the bottle. Then when little Fiona was killed in the accident, what with me being old enough to marry off, he simply gave up on life. I write to you today, sir, to inform of his passing. He drank himself into a stupor and choked to death on his own vomit.  
I have nothing and no one left. And I am in desperate need of employment. Would you kindly reconsider my dismissal? I would be prefer not to spend the rest of my life destitute, a homeless whore on the street. I have but one week left before I have to leave this hovel we’ve called home. Please, sir. Find it in your heart to reconsider.  
Sincerely,  
Lydia Day’  
Thomas looked at the date on the letter. A week ago. Dammit all. He sighed and rubbed his temples. When the foreman had informed him of the accident, he hadn’t wanted to tell Michael that his little friend had been killed. He also wasn’t aware that the sister had been dismissed or why.  
The thunder of his sons up the stairs and along the cat walk drew his head up. Olivia swept into the room like a breath of fresh air. Her smile lit up the office. “Afternoon, darling, getting everything taken care of?”  
“Not quite, but I believe I’ll leave the rest for tomorrow.”  
She perched on the side of the desk then leaned down and kissed him. The letter caught her eye. “What’s this?” She picked it up and read it before he had a chance to tell her. “Thomas, you must do something.”  
“What am I to do?”  
“Find her. Hire her. Matilda is due any day now. Matthew wouldn’t even allow her to come with us this trip.” He sighed. At Olivia’s encouragement, Matilda had found a young man in the village. They’d been married a year when she became pregnant. Now, she was nearly due with their first child.  
“Alright, darling. I’ll see what I can do.”  
“You’re a good man, Thomas Sharpe.” She held his face as she spoke then kissed him.  
“Well, I am now.”

Michael searched the factory over for Fiona. Once or twice, he thought he saw her fiery red hair flickering through the machinery. But when he pursed it, it was gone. His shoulders slumped as he trudged into his father’s office.  
“Papa?”  
“Yes, Michael?” Thomas shrugged on his jacket.  
“Where’s Fiona?”  
Olivia looked at Thomas with wide eyes. She started to shake her head but he held up his hand. Thomas crouched down in front of his son. “Michael, I didn’t want to tell you, but…”  
“But what, Papa?”  
Michael looked hard at his father. Thomas almost shirked under the weight of his six year old stare. He almost told a lie. But he’d made a promise to Olivia when they married, no secrets, no lies. “Son, there was an accident in the factory. Fiona was hurt badly.”  
“Is she alright? May I go and see her?”  
“Son, you can’t.” Thomas screwed up his courage to break his son’s heart. “I’m afraid she was killed.”  
“Killed? I don’t understand.”  
“Michael, she died. Some machine parts weren’t stacked properly and they fell on her and a few others. They’re very heavy and hurt her bad enough that she didn’t get better.”  
Michael’s bottom lip trembled. “So Fiona is with Aunt Marian and Aunt Lu?” Thomas nodded. Michael’s little face crumbled and he fell into Thomas. Thomas held his son fiercely tight. “I want to go home now, Papa.”  
“Of course, son.” Thomas stood up, still holding Michael. The boy wrapped his legs around his father’s waist.  
Henry looked from his mother and sister to his father and brother. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on, only that Michael was crying. “Mama, is Mimi is trouble?”  
Olivia crouched down and touched her youngest son’s face. “No, my little one, Mimi is sad. A friend of his is gone.”  
“Oh.”  
“Come now, let’s go home. I wonder if Annie has finished baking the biscuits she’d started.”  
“The ones with chocolate in them?” His little four year old eyes widened in excitement.  
“Those are the ones.” He bounced up and down. Olivia straightened up, adjusting Ava on her hip, then took Henry’s hand. Thomas followed behind her with Michael.

Annie reached for the windowsill, her mouth open as her orgasm swept through her. Mossimo pulled her back against him and turned her upper body to face him. He kissed her deeply then searched her face.  
“Come with me to Italy.”  
Annie laughed. “Mossimo, I can’t.” She separated their bodies at the sound of the oven timer. He frowned as she pulled the cookies from the oven but left the door open to cool it. He tucked himself back in his trousers.  
“Why not? And do not give the aristocrat and servant story. Tell me the truth.”  
Annie rested both her hands on the counter. “I made a promise to someone.”  
“Now, you are being vague.” He touched her shoulders. “No one in Milan will know you were a servant in England. They will only know you as my wife.”  
Annie swallowed and looked down at the counter. “We fuck a handful of times and you want to marry me?”  
He jerked as if she slapped him. “No, though that is rather enjoyable. I’ve wanted a wife who enjoys intercourse. Saves me from having a mistress, spending more money and causes me less bother.” He turned her shoulders. “No, I want you to be my wife because I see you know how to manage a household well. You’re kind and caring and loyal.” He kissed her. “Your lips are like cherries and they’ve become my favorite fruit.”  
Annie looked into his eyes. She’d only been with two other men. Silas Lancaster and Jeffrey, one of the Sharpe’s porters. She hoped he truly meant what he said. “Who will protect Lady Olivia?”  
Mossimo blinked. “Who? Why her husband of course.”  
Annie shook her head. “Thomas can’t protect her. He thinks he can.” She moved away from Mossimo. “No, Mossimo, I can’t go. Not while that man still lives.”  
“What man?” Mossimo felt as if he were missing something.  
“Silas Lancaster!”  
The Italian frowned. “Why would he want to hurt Olivia? And what could you do to stop him?”  
“You don’t know the things he’s done. You don’t know what he would do to her if anything happened to Thomas.” Annie visibly shuddered.  
“Are you saying Olivia is in danger?”  
“Olivia and Thomas both.”  
Mossimo combed his fingers through his hair. “How do you know all this?”  
Annie did not feel comfortable telling her employer’s secrets. Even one as vile as Silas. She hugged herself. “It is no secret that Silas wants Olivia. I think part of it is because she is forbidden. Another part is because he hates him.” Mossimo waited in Annie’s silence. “I am good at what I do. Invisible until I am needed. I heard things…things I cannot and will not tell you. But I tell you this. Silas knew Enola was dead when he encouraged you to visit. He was hoping in your anger that you would kill Thomas.” And he’d very nearly done that.  
“But why?"  
"Not only does he want Olivia, he hates Thomas because he has everything Mr. Lancaster used to have. Before he destroyed it all.”  
“But Silas is a rich man.”  
“Because of Thomas. Silas blackmailed him with something. I don’t know what. Shortly after their first Christmas, Thomas paid Silas a large amount of money. Then shortly after the collapse of Allerdale Hall, Olivia came to Lancaster House with a check from Sharpe and Sons to buy out the verbal agreement Thomas and Silas had. No doubt part of his blackmail, she’d said.”  
Mossimo didn’t know why this meant anything to Annie and said as much. “That means nothing to me.”  
Annie sighed. “Olivia is his obsession because he cannot have her. With Marian gone, Lucille gone, only Thomas stands in his way. If Thomas is gone…” Annie left the statement open.  
“And you truly believe he would hurt his own niece.” Annie bit her lip against the secret that wasn’t hers to spill. Mossimo sighed and crossed the room to her. “I am fond of Olivia. She has that way about her.” He hugged Annie against his chest.  
“I cannot leave her. I promised Marian.”  
Mossimo frowned into her sweet smelling brown hair. “I will write my father and see how much longer I may stay. But please, consider coming with me.” He would stay to protect Olivia. He would stay to be with Annie. He would stay to find out more about Silas.

Silas had counted on the Italian’s anger to do his dirty work. But the Sharpes’ arrival at their house off Regent’s Park with the man in tow dashed whatever hope he’d had of being indirectly involved the man’s death and or imprisonment. But with Lucille dead and Olivia to protect him and corroborate his story, imprisonment was out the picture. Even if they were telling the truth and Lucille Sharpe was the murderess, she was buried under clay and a collapsed manse. She’d paid the price for the actions.  
The only thing left to Silas was Thomas’s death. With the Italian’s failure, it was either hope for happy accident. Or create one. There were plenty of beggars who would do the deed. He simply had to find one.


	14. Chapter 14

Olivia tromped through the muddy streets of the slums looking for Lydia. Her boots were ruined from the mud and filth and likely the dress she wore. Thomas wasn’t making time to find the girl, but Olivia needed to find her.  
She froze at the familiar face of her uncle talking to a young girl with a terrified face. She frowned and shook herself loose her terror. This man would not destroy another lost soul if she could help it. She strode right up to him.  
“Uncle, quite a surprise to find you here.”  
Silas blinked confusedly and turned to his niece. “Olivia, my pet, I could say the same to you.”  
“I’m not your pet.” She fisted her hands on her hips. “Leave the poor girl alone.”  
The grungy street walker looked between the two, her brow pinching. “What’s going on here? You his missus or something.”  
“Oh god no!” Olivia looked aghast at the girl. Silas ground his jaw and twisted his neck at the disgust that dripped off his niece’s shock.  
“Then what business is it of yours?” The girl glared at Olivia, thinking her a high society prostitute trying to poach business.  
“My uncle has a history of violence and cruelty and perversion when it comes to sex, darling. You need that pretty face to make money, don’t you?” Olivia batted her eyes back and forth between the pair.  
“Honestly, Olivia, you have no idea the depths of my perversion.” Silas licked his lips.  
Olivia squinted at Silas. “Believe me, I do.” She looked at the whore. “What is he offering to pay you?”  
“We hadn’t got that far, miss.”  
“Well, I’ll give you five times your rate to come to my hotel and have tea.”  
“Tea? Is that some dodgy richy thing?”  
“No.” She laughed. “I’m afraid not. Just lunch and tea. And you don’t have to fuck anyone. Especially not this brute.”  
The girl looked from Olivia to Silas. “Lead the way, missus.”  
Silas snatched the girl’s wrist as she passed him. “Wait just a moment.”  
“Oy! Let go of me!” The girl lashed out with her nails and scratched the side of his face. Silas narrowed his eyes and backhanded the girl to the mud. He took a step closer but Olivia put herself between him and girl. He reached for her but Olivia had her hair pin at the ready and pressing into his throat.  
“Give me a reason, uncle. I’m begging you. I’ll shove this bloody thing through your throat and into your brain.”  
Silas felt her shaking. “You won’t do it.”  
“Won’t I?” She summoned her courage and leaned closer, whispering hotly. “With your death, all the dirty secrets get buried. So I say again, uncle. Give me a reason.”  
Silas lowered his hands and took a step back, the hair pin scratching a thin red line on the underside of his chin. He looked over her shoulder and memorized the girl's face to come back and punish her later before stalking away into the crowded street.  
Olivia turned to the girl, who’d stood up and was now brandishing her own dagger. “Who are you?”  
“Possibly your new employer.” Olivia twisted up her fallen hair and pinned her hair back. “Kindly put the dagger away and come with me to my hotel.” The girl looked around and found no aid and no escape except the crowd should she decide to go ahead and mug Olivia. “Please.” Olivia made no move until the dagger disappeared into the dingy skirt of the girl’s dress. “What’s your name?”  
The girl didn’t answer just yet as they walked toward uptown and the nicer neighborhoods. The two walked in silence with Olivia’s question unanswered. The streets became cobbles and the girl noticed the buildings spacing out and the greenery increasing. “You’re not going to make me a sex slave, are you?”  
“Oh Heaven’s no!” Olivia waved away the barbaric notion. “Good lord no, child. Sex is a beautiful, wonderful thing. The only sex in my household is voluntary.” The doorman opened the door to the hotel and nodded at Olivia, frowning instantly at the girl. Olivia strode up to the desk with the girl just behind her.  
“Good afternoon, Lady Sharpe, how may I be of assistance?”  
“Would you send more towels to my suite, please? As well as tea and full luncheon.”  
“Of course, my lady.”  
Olivia headed in the direction of the lift but the girl hadn’t moved. She walked back to the girl and touched her elbow. “Come on, then.” The girl let Olivia lead her into the lift then into the room before she finally spoke.  
“You’re Lady Sharpe?”  
“Yes, I am. Does that make any difference about possible employment?” Olivia pulled off her gloves and unpinned her hat and dropped both to a table.  
The girl swallowed. “I’m Lydia. Lydia Day.”  
Olivia practically beamed. “Why that’s wonderful!” She hugged the girl tightly but was shrugged off at the end.  
“Why is that wonderful? Do you even know who I am?”  
“Of course, child. I was looking for you.” Lydia stared at Olivia, blatantly confused.


	15. Chapter 15

Lydia sat in the office, twisting her handkerchief tighter and tighter. Olivia had explained everything, about the delay in getting the letter and then her search to find her. Then she’d offered her a job as the children’s nanny until the nanny returned from having her own child. At which point, Olivia would give her another position within the household. It wasn’t slavery, it wasn’t factory work, it wasn’t whoring. Lydia jumped at the offer.  
But her upset at Thomas Sharpe remained. Why had she been fired? And so soon after Fiona’s death? It had been a tragic accident but Lydia hadn’t blamed Sir Thomas. She blamed the idiots that stacked the machine parts improperly. She blamed Thomas Sharpe for her father’s death. And for her week that had felt like forever on the cold, unforgiving streets and for the things she’d done in that week to survive.  
Her blame and her thankfulness warred against each other. Until finally, her blame and shame had won out. So here she sat. The door opened and she stood but didn’t turn. Heavy boot falls increased her fear and trepidation as the man she met rounded the desk.  
“Don’t you clean up nicely.” Silas grinned at the girl. Lydia was reminded of the wolf in the fairy stories her mother used to tell her and Fiona. She swallowed her misgivings and squared her shoulders. “Alright then, to what do I owe this visit?”  
“I’d like to hear what you were going to offer me before Lady Olivia showed up.”


	16. Chapter 16

Olivia explained to Lydia that she’d rented the suite so that they might have some privacy from the household until Lydia made her decision. The suite was paid for for the night. Olivia left the address of the house in Regent’s Park district. She also left a fresh change of clothes and the money promised, along with enough to hire a carriage to the house.  
Lydia had enjoyed a hot bath and a hot, filling meal before falling asleep in the soft, clean bed. She took another bath in morning because she could then she dressed in the clothes provided her and hired a cab to the Sharpe residence in Regent’s Park, whereby she told Olivia she would take the nanny position. After Olivia settled her in the room off the nursery and scheduled a shopping outing for new clothes, she told Lydia to make herself at home and she and the children would be back in the afternoon to make their introductions. Lydia took that opportunity to visit Silas Lancaster at Lancaster House. She’d heard what he’d had to offer then gave him her answer.  
The introductions went smoothly. Henry took to her right away. Lydia had a hard time meeting Thomas’s eyes, knowing what Silas wanted of her, of anyone who would take the money actually. She watched from the fringes, doing her duty and not becoming involved in the family.

The day before the family was to return to Cumbria, Olivia presented Thomas with a gift. She flicked her eyes from her barely touched breakfast to her husband’s paper. Annie rushed into the room and whispered excitedly to her that it had arrived.  
Thomas lowered his paper just to his nose and raised an eyebrow. “Darling?”  
“It’s arrived!”  
“What’s arrived?”  
“Your gift! Come see.” Olivia leapt from her chair, tossing her napkin onto the uneaten food then grabbed Thomas’s hand. He struggled to get up without spilling anything, dropping his newspaper to the floor. They ran through the house like children with their own sons at their heels, laughing. Olivia covered his eyes. “It’s a surprise. Don’t peek. Michael, get the door.”  
“Livi, darling, I can’t see.”  
“That’s the point, Thomas. Trust me.” She guided him forward. “Careful down the steps, darling. Take-take the railing.” Olivia laughed as they fell into each other.  
“Olivia, darling-“ She took her hands away. He blinked into the bright sunshine, waiting for his eyes to adjust.  
“What do you think?” He didn’t and couldn’t hide his surprise at the shining black motorcar sitting in his drive. He ignored the chorus of ‘Papa’ from both his sons as he walked around the car touching it. “Thomas, say something.”  
He looked to his bride with a boyish grin. “I love it, my sweet girl.” He swept her up into his arms and spun her around. She whooped and laughed. He lowered to the ground, slowly, having eyes only for her. “I love you, so much.” His hands left her waist to cup her face. They smiled at each other for a moment before he kissed her, tender and lingering. He pulled away then went back for more, plunging his tongue between her lips. “Let’s go for a drive.”  
“I thought you’d never ask.” Annie trotted down the stairs to them, bringing Olivia’s shawl and Thomas’s hat and coat. Olivia looked up the stairs to Lydia and Annie. “We’ll be back in a bit.” Olivia handed him a slender flat box. “One more thing, my love.”  
Thomas opened it the box. “Gloves?”  
“Driving gloves. To keep your hands from getting too dirty when you crank the engine.” It took the pair of them nearly 15 minutes to get the motorcar running but when they finally accomplished it, they were off.  
Thomas marveled at the ingenuity. “I bet I could improve the engine’s crank.”  
Olivia laughed. “Oh my darling, ever the engineer.” She kissed his cheek. The car rumbled over the cobbles of the nicer streets. “What do you think of Lydia?”  
“I don’t think she likes me.”  
“I explained to her what had happened. Hurt takes time to heal, longer when there is grief involved. You know that, darling.”  
“I know.” Thomas beamed at his wife. “This is splendid, my love. Do you think the boys would enjoy a ride?”  
“They would love it!” Olivia looked over the interior of the motorcar. “It’s a shame we couldn’t all fit. We wouldn’t need to take the train back home.”  
“How about Michael and I drive the car home?”  
“Oh that’s wonderful!” They rolled to a stop in the drive, but Thomas let the engine idle instead of die. He climbed out of the driver’s side then walked around to open the door for his lady, offering her his hand.  
The boys came running down the front steps. “Go get your coats, lads.”  
“We get to ride in the car too, Papa?”  
“-car too, Papa?” Henry repeated Michael to the older boy’s annoyance.  
“Yes, yes, go get your coats.” Thomas paused with Olivia at the foot of the steps. “Remind me to thank you properly later."  
“Oh of course, darling.” His open palms raked up her sides as he held her, waiting for the boys to return. Their open mouths hovered together before he finally closed the distance. He loved her more than life. She WAS his life. Her and the children. Without them, he was a bad man with stains on his soul and no hope of redemption. He reminded himself daily that without her, without them, he was lost and alone.

Lydia helped the boys on with their coats then followed them out, Ava on her hip. She saw the love between them. It was undeniable, their connection. Something pure and wonderful that made her smile despite the coldness in her heart for Thomas Sharpe. She liked Olivia, her openness and her candor, her ready acceptance of Lydia into her home and family, her happiness and light that touched all around her.  
She’d noticed the difference in the atmosphere of the Lancaster house to the Sharpe house. It was not unlike her own home before her mother's and sister’s passings, full of love and warmth and laughter. While her short time in the Lancaster house had left her feeling cold, alone, and uncomfortable.  
Admittedly, she did not know the justifiable animosity between Olivia and Silas. She had enough of a mind about her to know jealousy when she saw it. That was the case with Silas and Thomas. Why him any more than any other successful young man in the London? This puzzled her. But Lydia had always been good with puzzles.


	17. Chapter 17

Thomas stared into Olivia’s eyes. He would never believe his luck in finding her, or his luck in keeping her after everything they went through with Lucille. He brushed the hair back from her forehead, his eyes following the soft cascade of her reddish blonde hair.  
They knelt on the bed facing each other. He took his time kissing her. Soft kisses to her forehead, eyelids, nose, cheeks, and lips. His teeth joined in at her throat and ears, making her gasp. His hands joined in as he moved to her breasts, kissing and licking and biting. He kneaded and pinched. Each time her breath hitched, it spurred him on. His fingers danced down her thighs then up between them. He pressed his open mouth to hers. His fingertips ghosted over the tuft of wet hair on her cunt. He glided his finger along the seam of her then plunged two inside her. Her hands flew to his shoulders as his arm wrapped around her torso.  
Thomas’s gaze flicked between her parted lips to her hooded eyes as he leaned her back onto the bed. His fingers thrust deep inside her and curled to her sweet spot. She began to flush and pant, her legs opening more as her hips danced in his hand. He used her arousal to slick his thumb then rubbed her hard clit.  
“I need you, Thomas.” She panted.  
“Patience, my sweet girl.” She closed her eyes and grabbed hold of the bed, letting her orgasm sweep over her. He slipped his hand from beneath her then kissed his way down her belly, pausing to nip at her mound as he drew in a deep breath of her. He settled himself between her thighs and parted her pussy lips with his fingers. There was the little pearl he sought. The pearl of her pleasure. His lips fastened onto her clit. His sucking and licking were rewarded with her shouts and tugging his black curly hair.  
Olivia gasped and writhed on the bed at the tip of his tongue. She thought herself spent after the first release from his tongue but oh no, he brought her a second and a third. He gave her moments to catch her breath as his tongue replaced his eager fingers to lap up her sweetness. He climbed up her body, stalking her mouth like prey. He kissed her lips, letting her taste herself on his tongue.  
Thomas pressed his forehead to hers, reaching between them to line himself up. She lifted and bent her leg to open herself more to him. He wrapped his arm around her bent knee and pushed his throbbing cock inside her. She arched off the bed, pleasure zinging through her.  
“Oh god, Thomas!”  
“Yes, my sweet girl.” He grunted with the force and depth of each thrust. He stared into her eyes, watching her helpless pleasure in them. If it were possible, she was more beautiful this way. Naked and wanton and his. She lifted her hips and wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging to his shoulder. Her nails bit his flesh. Thomas lost every shred of control, fucking her into the mattress until they came together, shouting.  
Thomas dropped to his back and looked at ceiling, panting. Olivia laid her head on his sweaty chest, wrapping her arm around him. Neither said another word before sleep claimed them.

Lydia glanced across the table at the Italian houseguest. She had learned many things since they’d arrived at Vermilion Manor. One being that no matter the sum offered, she would not be able to seduce Sir Thomas Sharpe. His love for Olivia was so great. And their sexual escapades had surprised Lydia to no limit.  
The second that this Italian gentleman was carrying on an affair with Annie. Lydia smiled to herself as she prodded her toast into the soft yolk of her egg. Mossimo folded his paper and looked at her. “Something amusing, Miss Lydia?” He raised his coffee to his lips.  
Lydia shook her head, chewing quicker so that she could answer. “Oh no, nothing, sir. I was just thinking on something Olivia had told me the day we met.”  
“And what was that?” He sipped the coffee again.  
“That I wouldn’t have to fuck anyone if I didn’t want to.” Mossimo choked on the hot liquid which pleased Lydia in a way she couldn’t put her finger on. “Seems to me the most prized beds are already taken anyway. Hers and yours.”  
Mossimo wiped his mouth. “I can see why Olivia chose you.” He smiled as he shook his head.  
“I don’t quite follow.”  
Mossimo laid his arm on the table then looked at her. “Thomas might carry the name Sharpe but be sure that the Lady Olivia runs this household. Like his sister before her, Olivia is strong and confident. As you get to know the servants, you will find that the women are much like her though of lower economic station. Strong, confident, assertive. Like yourself. Like my Annie.”  
“And the men?”  
Mossimo grinned as he lifted a bit of egg to his mouth. “She chooses them like her husband. Physically strong, intelligent, skilled at their craft. She pays you all handsomely. More than even servants in London are paid. She cares for you as if you were her family. Replacing her own broken home with one of her own design.”  
“You speak of her with great admiration.”  
“I do.” He wiped his mouth. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a telephone call to make.” Lydia watched him leave the room. Olivia came from a broken home? Silas hadn't mentioned that when they spoke. Lydia ate her breakfast slowly, ruminating the questions in her mind. She decided she needed to know more about her mistress.


	18. Chapter 18

Silas sat at his desk looking over the papers. After his last appointment with his physician, he’d made his will. It seemed his plans for doing away with Sharpe and claiming his niece wouldn’t come to fruition after all. Perhaps, he would try to make amends. Olivia would see right through it. She’d always been suspicious of him. Ever since the night she’d behaved like a banshee when he visited her room.  
She was nothing like her mother. Josephine had been sweet and shy, demur and delicious. She didn’t put up a fight. She’d done her womanly duties. He thought she’d even enjoyed it. Perhaps that was where Olivia got her wantonness with Sharpe.  
It was only after Josephine’s death that he felt Olivia’s rejection keenly. But he didn’t have to suffer her presence for she was married to Arthur shortly after. Then she just kept coming back. She’d ripened after Arthur’s death. She was experienced and if her house servants were to be believed, she was deviant as well.  
Silas licked his lips at the memory. He’d given her to Nathaniel on the condition that they share her. But his nephew was selfish and didn’t hold up his end of the bargain. The boy’s philandering didn’t drive her into the arms of her family like normal women. His death had been a blessing.  
But Marian insisted they marry her off again. Silas didn’t try very hard. He purposely selected weak-willed and spineless, unsuccessful, if not outright unattractive suitors for her. Then Sir Thomas bloody Sharpe spoiled everything.  
And now it seemed his gut had turned against him. He stroked his chin. Perhaps if he were honest with her, he might ingratiate himself to his last of kin in his last days. She might even grant him a last request.

The sun warmed Lydia where she sat on the blanket. Michael and Henry ran around the yard with the growing pups from the hunting dogs and the pair of kits that they’d rescued on their last hunt. Ava slept soundly under her quilt. Lydia took the opportunity to read the letter again. She couldn’t believe it.  
Mr. Lancaster had given her the name of excellent private eye. He’d even funded her inquiry without knowing what it was. Which she found odd. He’d been bound and determined to destroy his niece and her husband at any all cost. Knowing more about Olivia would deter that. This letter and its contents of proof turned Lydia’s heart for her mistress. Maybe not so much her master.  
She sighed. She enjoyed it here. She would have to come clean. Perhaps Olivia would forgive her. “Boys! It’s time for lunch and your afternoon studies.”  
“Aw, Miss Lydia-“  
“-do we have to?”  
“Yes, you do. Come on then.” She waited while the boys put the dogs up in the kennel. The foxes set off a jangled chorus of barking. Laughter and smiles accompanied the boys as they ran up to Lydia. “Grab the blanket, would you, Michael?”  
“Yes, Miss Lydia.” She carried the sleeping Ava into the house, boys and foxes running about her feet. She envied Olivia Sharpe for her lovely family. She sighed, missing her own something fierce. “Something the matter, Miss Lydia?”  
“Nothing you should worry about, Michael.”  
“You look sad. I don’t like it when you look sad.”  
She smiled. Such a lovely boy. Were he but ten years older, she would have trouble maintaining propriety. He had a kind heart like his mother. Thomas raised him to be a gentleman even at the tender age of six. “I miss my family.”  
“You should visit them.”  
“I wish I could, Michael, but I cannot. They’ve passed away.”  
“I’m sorry, Miss Lydia.” He surprised her by hugging her about the waist. “Do you think about them often? I think of my Aunt Lucille and my nana Marian.”  
“Not so much my mother and father. I think of them at the oddest moments. But my sister Fiona, I think of her all the time.”  
“I have a friend named Fiona. She works at Papa’s factory.”  
Lydia froze. “Did she have red hair like your mother’s?”  
“Yes and she's so pretty. Like you.” Michael blushed.  
“Oh Michael…” His shy smile faded at the sadness on his nanny’s face. “I…” She swallowed. “That is my sister. She was killed in an accident at the factory.”  
“What?”  
“It’s true.” Lydia fumbled for her locket and showed him a grainy picture of her sister Fiona.  
“Wha-why didn’t Papa tell me?” His bottom lip quivered and tears sprung into his shimmering green eyes.  
“I don’t know, love. Maybe to keep you from being hurt?” Michael turned and ran down the hallway. “Michael! Mi-“ She sighed, swallowing down her own tears and sadness.

Thomas looked down at his hands, his handsome face set in long lines. His left, pale and whole and strong; his right, scarred with red tissue, bent and broken. His price to pay to save the life of the woman he loved, the lives of their children and the life they built together. His frowned deepened as he flexed that worthless hand.  
“I’m truly sorry, Sir Thomas. I-“  
“It’s alright, Lydia.” He looked up at her. “I should have told him when it happened. But you’re correct in your assumption that I wanted to spare him grief.” He looked away from the nanny and out the window. Dark clouds rolled in over the late afternoon sky. “Grief and pain are old friends of mine and I wanted to spare my son that.”  
Lydia shifted her feet. “Am I to be disciplined, sir?”  
“What? No, of course not.” He sighed then rubbed his face. “Michael lost his aunt three years ago. Very nearly lost his mother and myself.” He held up his hand. “I’ve seen you looking at my hand, afraid to ask. Most of the factory workers do. I’ve heard all the whispers.”  
“What did happen with your hand, sir?”  
He met her eyes. “I was forced to make a choice. My sister or my wife. I chose Olivia. Before I could save my sister, it was crushed, by the lift in my ancestral home. If it hadn’t been for Olivia, I might have lost my hand and likely bled to death.” He flexed his worthless hand. “We all make mistakes, Lydia. It’s how we atone for them that matters.”  
“And how am I to atone?”  
“I wasn’t referring to your mistake.” She furrowed her brow. “But to mine. I should have told Michael. I will go speak to him.” He pushed back the chair and walked around the desk. He took her hands gently. “I’m truly sorry for the loss of your sister.”  
Lydia swallowed. “Thank you, sir.” Tears of loss sprang anew to her eyes. “Excuse me, sir.” She pulled her hands free, made easier by him opening them to let her go. She hurried from the room, nearly running into Olivia.  
“Oh my goodness, Lydia!” Olivia caught her with both arms before they collided. “Are you alright?”  
Lydia shook her head. “I’ve done something terrible.”  
“What, child?” Olivia wrapped her arm around the nanny’s shoulder and escorted her into the nearest room, the parlor. She sat her down on the sofa then sat on the table across from her. “You can trust me, Lydia.” She smoothed the girl’s hair. “I’ve done terrible things myself, so I’ll pass no judgement.”  
Lydia swallowed down her tears. “Silas.”  
Olivia’s spine went rigid. “What does my uncle have to do with you?”  
“I-I went to him after you hired me. I wanted to know what he had to say that day in the street.”  
Olivia sat straighter. “And what did he have to say?”  
Lydia didn’t miss the change in her mistress’s tone. She sniffed and swallowed, sitting straighter herself. “He wanted me to seduce Thomas.”  
“And?” Olivia’s cheek twitched as she clenched her jaw.  
“I agreed. But Lady, I have not attempted to. I knew after my first night here that it would be a futile and ridiculous effort. He loves you so very much. Could I be so lucky to find that love in the future.” She looked down at her hands. “Am I to be dismissed?”  
Olivia did not look away from Lydia. Her lovely features had fallen into a severe frown. “What else did Silas want? And be sure to unburden your heart fully and honestly. If I think you false or deceptive, I will not hesitate to act upon it.”  
Thomas paused in the doorway. He could tell something was amiss by his normal cheerful and happy wife looking at their nanny as if she meant to slit her throat. A look he’d seen on Lucille’s face time and again. He shuddered, a look he thought he’d never have to see again.  
Lydia trembled with fear. She’d never feared a woman before but the look on Olivia’s face chilled her to her marrow. “He said if I couldn’t fuck Sharpe, I was to kill him.”  
Thomas flinched. “You’re sure?” Lydia’s eyes widened as he came around the sofa. “He instructed you to kill me?”  
“Oh yes, absolutely. He wants Lady Olivia. He made that plainly clear. He’ll stop at nothing. Including your death, sir.”  
“And you agreed to this?” Thomas looked from his wife to the cowering girl on the sofa.  
“I did. I was angry with you. Fiona’s death then my father’s. And the things I was made to do to survive on the street before Olivia found me.” She looked up at him and it was raw. Hurt and anger and grief and shame, everything he’d known all his life. Before Olivia saved him, as she had saved this girl. He saw himself in this broken orphan, cowering in fear of abandonment and god knows what else she suspected them capable of.  
Olivia sighed. “Lydia, look at me.” Her red rimmed eyes found the blue green eyes of Michael in the woman’s face. “If you attempt to fuck my husband, I will kill you. If you attempt to hurt or kill my husband or my children, I will kill you.” Olivia darted forward and snatched her chin. Her hand wrapped around the girl’s throat. As she pulled the hair pin loose and brought it to the girl’s eye. “Yours won’t be the first life I take and I won’t bat an eye.” Lydia focused on the point of the hair pin dangerously close to her eyeball.  
“Olivia.”  
“Am I understood?”  
“Yes, miss. Yes, milady. Understood completely.” Olivia didn’t lower the pin or let go.  
“Silas is sick, twisted, depraved. He’s a horrible human being who’s done far worse than anything Thomas or I have been made to do to survive. Do not go near him again. He will use you up and spit you out. Whatever he promised you was lies. What did he promise you?”  
Lydia swallowed, looking from the pin to Olivia’s cold, calculated face. “He said if I followed through and you wouldn’t cooperate, he would arrange an accident for you. He would marry me and make me a lady and a rich woman. Would give me children if I wanted them.”  
Olivia ground her jaw. “And you were willing to go along with that?”  
“I-I was angry. I was hurt. I was ashamed. I know now that everything he said was a lie. He was playing on my emotions. Please forgive me, Olivia.”  
The pin quivered. Thomas saw her draw her hand back minutely. “Olivia, stop!” He grabbed her wrist and wrenched the pin from it, scraping it along Lydia’s cheek. The girl hissed. “Stop this. She’s confessed. She’s remorseful. Have we not done terrible things by your own admission?” He crouched and turned her to face him. “She is a victim. Just like you and I.”  
“Did she?”  
“Did she what?”  
“Did she try to fuck you?”  
“No, my darling.” He let go of her wrist and cupped her jaw in both hands. “And if she had, I wouldn’t have. I’m yours and yours alone. You saved me. You saved Lydia as well. Don’t let Silas corrupt you into doing something you know in your heart is truly wrong. Do not let him be to you what I allowed Lucille to be to me for so very long.”  
Lydia cowered uncomfortably as Olivia sobbed into her husband’s chest. The sobs quieted then the lady of the house sat up. She looked into her husband’s eyes. Lydia felt as if she walked in on them being intimate. Blush flared on her cheeks and she looked away from the tenderness, the intimacy of that look.  
Olivia sat up straighter and wiped her eyes. Thomas grabbed the back of her neck to lean her forward to kiss her forehead. The Sharpes turned the full weight of their gazes on Lydia, who swallowed and tried not to move and to appear as small as she could.  
Thomas spoke first. “Remember our little chat my office, about atonement?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“When the time comes, you will be made to atone for yours.”  
Olivia slipped the pin back into her hair. “This is your second chance, Lydia. My husband’s words ring true. I will not abandon you to go back to him or the streets. You may stay here, if that is what you desire. But do not mistake my kindness for forgiveness or weakness. If you betray us, if any harm comes to this family by your hand or your actions, I will kill you.”


	19. Chapter 19

Michael sat on his bed, his legs dangling over the edge. He couldn’t meet his father’s eyes. Tears stained his puffy red cheeks. Thomas sat on the bed next to him, his hand on the boy’s back.  
“Michael, you need to understand something. I…” He sighed, looking to the ceiling for strength. He remembered how often he cried as a child. Terrified of mother and father, the beatings Lucille couldn’t save him from. “When I was your age, Aunt Lucille was my only friend, my only family.”  
“Didn’t you have a mother?”  
“I did. And a father as well. But they were not kind or good people. They hurt Aunt Lucille and I a great deal. Lucille more because she took the blame for everything to spare me.”  
“I don’t understand-“  
Thomas sighed. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about young Fiona’s death when it happened. Like Lucille did for me, I tried to spare you the pain of that knowledge.” He nudged his son’s chin up, gazing into his watery eyes. “I didn’t want you hurt and instead, I hurt you more. And for that, I am sorry. Can you forgive me?”  
Michael sniffed and nodded. “I forgive you, Papa.” Michael threw his arms around Thomas’s waist and pressed his face into his father’s chest. Thomas smoothed his hair and kissed the top of his head. He looked up to see Olivia standing, watching quietly in the doorway, a soft smile upon her lips.

Olivia’s back slammed up against the wall. Her hands scrabbled at Thomas’s cravat and the buttons of his waistcoat. Their mouths feasted hungrily on each other, the sounds they made more animal than man. His pale chest exposed to her, she marked it with her nails. He grunted. He didn’t bother with buttons or ties. He grabbed the top of her dress in both hands and ripped the fabric.  
His hands claimed her breasts, kneading them roughly. Lips and teeth moved to her jaw. She whimpered at the bite on her earlobe and his feral growl. “I’m going to fuck you against this wall then I’m going to throw you to the bed and fuck your pretty mouth.”  
“Yes, Thomas!”  
He spun her around and slammed her to the wall again. Her heavy breath condensed on the polished wood. It felt good against the burning flesh of her breasts. Fabric ripped again and her skirt pooled around her feet.  
Her husband kicked her feet apart wider and pulled her ass out further. Her cry was louder for the wood so close to her mouth when he pushed his hard cock into her. He pressed his face into her shoulder, scraping teeth against her alabaster skin.  
They grew louder and more violent, their bodies pushing against each other. Her nails scraped the wood above her head. She reached between her legs to strum her clit. His grip on her hips became bruising. Then she was cumming and Thomas right after, growling and sinking his teeth into her shoulder.  
Thomas gave her a moment’s pause before he pulled out and grabbed her by the waist. She bounced when she hit the mattress as he carelessly tossed her on the bed. She reached for her stockings, the only thing she still wore.  
“No, leave them.”  
“Yes, husband.” She watched, licking her lips as he stripped out of his clothes. Her breath hitched as he crawled up her. “So we are decided?”  
“We are.” He held himself over her.  
“And the others?”  
“If they stand in the way, we will take care of them.”  
“Yes.” Thomas had the odd, uncomfortable familiarity of planning unsavory things with a woman he loved. She touched his face, sensing the distance in him. “Thomas?”  
He turned his head to kiss her fingers. “Memories.” Olivia reached between them to cup him, to stroke him hard once more. “Open, darling.” That was the last thing either of them said as he crawled the rest of the way up her body and fulfilled his statement.


	20. Chapter 20

The carriage bumped along, carrying its mean spirited, rotund cargo out to the Sharpe clay mines and the former site of Allerdale Hall. Now, a memory of upended ruins and broken spires that sunk further into the soft, shifting earth over time.  
Silas looked up from his leather bound book as the carriage halted. A moment later and the door opened. Sir Thomas Sharpe ducked his impressive height into the carriage and sat across from him. The man’s cheerful smile did not reach his eyes. Dark pools that regarded Lancaster hard and warily.  
“I trust the train ride was pleasant.”  
“It was, thank you for inquiring.” Silas closed the book and it tucked into the bag at his side. Bottles clinked against one another with the motion of the carriage. “I’ll not beat around the bush, Sharpe. I was shocked and skeptical about Olivia’s telephoning.”  
“But no doubt pleased, Silas. I know your niece’s, my wife’s hatred of you has been a stressful, upsetting and often irritating matter for you.”  
“You know a great deal then, Thomas.” Silas adjusted his girth on the uncomfortable padded seat, attempting to keep the gut pain he was presently experiencing from his face. “Would you happen to know why she summoned me?”  
“Sentimentality, I suppose.” He looked down at his hands. “Our nanny, Lydia, is an orphan. As are Matilda and Annie and myself. Our dear friend Mossimo, you remember him, don’t you, Silas? Mossimo and Olivia are the only members of our little family who still have living relatives.”  
“I would hardly call servants a family, Thomas.”  
The dark gentleman shrugged. “They have become like sister children to my darling wife. And I will not deny her her wishes. You understand, surely.” Silas grunted, partly in pain and partly in acceptance. “Matilda has married and has given birth. Annie will be leaving for Italy with Mossimo when he returns.” Silas’s eyebrows shot into his heavily creased forehead. “And with Olivia expecting our fourth and likely last child, I believe she simply wants to drag her family close. Even if it is you.”  
“Fourth child, my goodness, Sharpe, you are the pair of rabbits.”  
Again, Thomas shrugged. “The children make Olivia and I happy. Our family is happy. That is what matters.”  
“So this is a case of intentional impregnation?”  
Thomas laughed. “Heavens no, we just love to fuck. We aren’t particularly careful with contraception either.” Thomas calculatedly watched Silas’s face at his candor. The man’s cheek twitched and his hands curled into fists slowly. “Olivia and I are both faithful and monogamous so pregnancy is the only worry. I do so love seeing her round and with child.”  
“I haven’t the pleasure.”  
“Such a shame. She hasn’t begun to show yet.” The carriage hit a rut and Silas was no longer able to keep the pain from his face. “Are you alright, Silas?”  
The older man closed his eyes, bracing himself against the pain to gain control of it. “A bit of belly pain is all.”  
“As soon as we arrive at the manor, you should rest until dinner.”  
“That sounds like an excellent idea.”

Olivia bounced Ava on her hip, one of the kits draped over her shoulder like a living stole. Her slippered feet paced back and forth on the rug in Thomas’s office. Storm clouds had moved in again over the afternoon sky, darkening her mood as well as the day.  
“I don’t like him being here, Thomas.”  
“I know. But it’s the only way.”  
She sighed. “I know, I know.” Thomas rose from his chair, leaving his work undone. He stood before her, resting a hand on her hip and one on her shoulder. She tilted her head to lay her cheek on the back of his hand. He turned his hand to cup her cheek in the palm of his hand. His thumb caressed her lips.  
“He won’t be here long, I promise. And this was your idea after all.”  
She sighed, moving slightly to kiss his palm. Thomas touched their daughter’s head lightly before taking her from her mother. She grinned, the buds of her teeth showing just outside the gum. He smiled, more to himself. No wonder Livi’s nipples were so tender.  
Ava reached for her father’s unruly black curls. Her eyes shifted to just over his shoulder and her smile widened. Her focus moved from her father’s hair to whatever it was behind him. Thomas and Olivia both looked behind him. Nothing but the desk. They looked at one another then the baby. Her gaze followed whatever it was out the door.  
Olivia jerked in unpleasant surprise to find Silas standing in the doorway. He smirked at her discomfort then remembered himself. He was here to mend fences and possibly achieve his last illicit desire.  
“Uncle, feeling better?”  
“Only slightly. Mind if I sit?” The question was directed at Thomas but he didn’t wait for permission. He sat in one of the plush leather wingbacks. “My apologies for interrupting.” He gestured vaguely to husband, wife and child.  
Ava had returned to her quest for her father’s curls. She managed to snag on and held it securely. Thomas didn’t mind. Olivia pulled harder when they were alone. “No apology necessary, Silas. Did you need something?”  
“Yes, I wanted to speak with both of you before dinner with the children and your house guest.”  
Thomas glanced at Olivia. “By all means, Uncle.”  
Silas leaned back, his bloated, inflamed belly sticking out obscenely and stretching the buttons of his waistcoat. “Like I told Thomas in the carriage, I was shocked and wary of your call, Olivia.”  
“Yes, well-“  
Silas held up his hand. “But Thomas, you were right. I was pleased by it. I know you are not fond of me, Olivia.” It took everything she had not to expound on his monumental understatement. “But matters of health are necessitating that I make amends where possible.”  
“Matters of health?”  
Silas shifted in the chair as pain radiated from his gut. “Yes, and I have one request of you, Olivia.”  
She braced for the no doubt disgusting request he was about to make that she would deny him. Even if she were not with child, she would never agree to his sick desire. “And what is that, Uncle?”  
He met her eyes and for the first time in his life showed emotion, surprising her. “I want to know what happened to your mother the night she died, Olivia. You were the only one in the house with her aside from the servants.”  
“I don’t know what answers I can give you.” She turned away from him.  
“I am wretched man, Olivia. We know that.” She scoffed. “But I loved your mother.” He met Thomas’s eyes. “It was my greatest sin.” Thomas frowned, at the odd and surprising kinship he felt with his loathsome in-law over a vague statement. He glanced at his wife. “I am dying, Olivia. I beg you to at least give me this.”


	21. Chapter 21

“Dying?”  
“Wait.” Olivia took the baby to the door. “Lydia! Lydia, come here please!” She waited at the doorway, both her husband and her uncle looking at her in confusion. A few moments later, Lydia appeared only slightly out of breath. She flinched in her shock at Silas’s presence. Her wide eyes looked to her mistress. “Lydia, please take Ava to the nursery and make sure the boys are nowhere near the office.”  
“Yes, milady.”  
“Thank you, dear.” She closed the door firmly after handing over her child. She should have waited to make sure Lydia had done what she’d been asked. Self-preservation kept Lydia rooted to the spot, listening on the other side of the door. “Continue, Uncle.”  
“It’s not pretty, niece. About a month ago, I became ill. Violently vomiting and passing blood. The doctor felt around on my stomach and informed me that I have several large masses. I’ve got the cancer. It’s likely eaten me up inside.”  
Olivia sunk to the chair next to him. Joy and relief warred with shock. “I’m so sorry, Uncle.”  
“As my last kin, I’ve left everything to you and the children.” His watery eyes trembled in his eyes. “Please, Olivia. I know you hate me, but grant me this last request.”  
She sighed and rolled her neck. Thomas watched his wife become the strong Valkyrie he married. The woman who saved him from the horrors of his past. He watched the loving, dutiful wife and mother slide away to become his seraph. “You will not find peace in this knowledge.” Thomas sat on the edge of the desk, facing his wife.  
“I need to know, Olivia.”  
“Very well.” Her brilliant green eyes pinned him to the chair like one of Lucille’s insects against their boards. “She told me who my father was.” Thomas did not mistake the shift in the tension in the air. Desperate pleading from a dying man shifted to uncertain fear and palpable hatred.  
“What happened?”  
Olivia’s eyes became dark. Thomas shuddered at how like Lucille she looked in that moment. Her next words were a revelation, not for her admission but- “I strangled her. I wrapped my hands around her throat and squeezed until I felt the bone scrape and her eyes rolled back in her head.” She rose slowly from her chair. “Then I shoved her sick, filthy carcass down the stairs to make sure her neck broke. Father.”  
Silas gaped like a fish. His daughter had killed her mother. Something he never would have believed. They were inseparable when she believed the girl to be her sister. “Father? Silas is your father.”  
“Not just MY father. My grandfather as well! This disgusting sack of human shit fucked his own daughter!” Thomas lunged forward over the desk as he saw her move. He held her awkwardly over the desk.  
Thomas stammered as he struggled to keep Olivia from attacking Silas. “Olivia-“  
“Tell me, Thomas, would you have married me if you knew that I was a child of incest? So much worse than your twisted love with Lucille. More depraved and wretched than anything we’ve done to survive.” Her eyes flashed with shame and sorrow as she turned to him, the full weight of secret raw and exposed. Thomas couldn’t answer. He couldn’t think. This shocked him yes, but her final secret had come to light. They held nothing back from each other anymore. He left her go and moved around the desk.  
“You are lucky I don’t kill you where you sit, Lancaster. She was your daughter!”  
“You’re a fine one to cast judgement, Sharpe. I know about you and your sister.”  
“I accept my shame for that. You cannot guilt me anymore. But you, cretin, you fucked your child! And have been trying to do it again since Olivia could bleed! Get out of my sight. Get out!”  
“I’ll see you hung for this, Olivia.”  
Thomas grabbed her arms as she darted forward. “If I swing, you swing, you fat oaf!” She spit in his face. Silas wiped his face, sneering disgustedly. Yet, he said nothing more as he left the office.  
Olivia picked up the lamp on Thomas’s desk and hurled it at the door. She screamed, full of rage and shame. She shoved whatever was in arms reach off the desk before Thomas wrapped his arms around her from behind. She bucked, stomping on his feet. Her head connected with his nose. White exploded in his eyes and he gasped in a pain but did not let go.  
“Olivia! Olivia!”  
“Don’t touch me!”  
“Olivia, stop!” He jerked her hard against his body, giving her a rough shake. His bucking bronco collapsed against him. Her loud sobs shook her entire body.  
“How can you even touch me? Knowing that I’m the wretched spawn of the defiler.”  
Thomas sat in the closest chair, holding her tightly against him. He nudged her head to the side so that he could press his cheek against hers. “Olivia, my darling love, you are the same woman now as you were but moments ago. This knowledge changes nothing of that.” Her chest rose and fell in a rapid pant as she calmed down from her outburst. “You are still the woman I fell in love with. The woman who gave me three beautiful children.” His arms loosened enough so that he could clutch her lower belly. “Four. The woman who saved me, who breathed life back into me.”  
“Why, Thomas?”  
“You are not responsible for what has been done to you. You are the victim. But more importantly, you are my wife and I love you. I belong to you.” They turned to look at each other. Two broken souls, fitted together like puzzle pieces to create a love that was more than them both.

Lydia cowered in the next room, trembling as she clutched the baby close to her breast. Sympathy and fear warred in her head. She knew what Olivia was capable of. Her mistress had told her so while she held a hair pin dangerously close to her eye. Her face screwed up as she fought not to cry for Olivia. She shivered, feeling a wash of cold all over. Ava cooed in her arms, reaching for something beyond Lydia’s shoulder.  
She turned slowly, believing herself caught by either employer but she could still hear Olivia’s sobs from the other room. She startled at the darkened silhouette of a woman.  
“Christ, you scared me. Annie?”  
“Afraid not, child.”  
“Who are you?”  
“Who I am is not important. What I have to say is.” Lydia shuddered, her teeth beginning to chatter and yet, Ava remained unphased, reaching for the woman. “Not right now poppet.” Lydia couldn’t see her head move in the darkened room but she felt the woman’s eyes back on her. “Silas may be dying but now that he knows the truth about Josephine, he will try to punish Olivia. Even if that means going outside the law.”  
The door to Thomas’s office opened. Lydia turned, her eyes wide in fear of being caught. Thomas and Olivia spoke softly as they walked down the hall, away from the room she stood in. She turned back around to find herself alone.


	22. Chapter 22

Mossimo rolled onto his side, hugging Annie close. She hadn’t slept well since Silas had arrived at the manor. When she did sleep, it was fitful and often filled with nightmares. The Sharpes and Lancaster were rarely in the same room together and when they were, it was filled with tension. He made up his mind to do something.  
He kept his jumbled thoughts to himself. Annie didn’t seem to notice his distance when they dressed and started the day. His poor love was exhausted, yet she still performed her daily work with little to no complaint.  
The Italian knocked on the door jamb to Thomas’s office door. The boys ran out laughing, chasing Olivia’s kits. She had amused him by naming them Benedict and Beatrice. Thomas tugged on his waistcoat as he sat down then smoothed it. He flexed his bad hand as he picked up a pen to write.  
“Mossimo, what can I do for you, friend?”  
“I would be grateful if you and Olivia would join me for drinks in the parlor tonight. I have a surprise for my Annie.”  
Thomas smiled. “Of course, would you like Lydia and the children to be there?”  
Mossimo thought to himself for a moment. “No, best to let the little ones go to bed at their accustomed hour.” Thomas nodded. “I will see you later this evening then.”  
He clasped his hands at the small of his back as he sauntered through the halls. He heard the lumbering brute’s booming voice coming from the solarium. One of the younger scullery maids fled the room, flushed and in tears. Mossimo’s brow knit. She held herself between her legs as she ran, avoiding his eyes. His frown deepened before he smoothed it out. Enola once told him that if his father had approved, he should have been an actor.  
With his false joviality plastered on with a sunny smile, he strode into the solarium. “Monsieur Lancaster! Good morning, good to see you in better health.”  
“Only just. How are you, my Italian friend?”  
“Excellent, excellent, would you join me in the parlor for drinks tonight? Annie and I will be returning to Italy very soon and I’ve arranged a surprise for her.”  
“Of course, of course, anything for my sweet Annie.” He had the good sense to look abashed. “Excuse me, anything for Annie.”  
“Yes, well, I shall see you later tonight then.” Mossimo did not linger in the Englishman’s presence. Though he had never noticed before, he had begun to see everything that Annie and Olivia had said about him. If everything went smoothly, they would rid of him for good and soon.  
Mossimo’s wandering gait carried him to the nursery where Olivia sat with Lydia, Henry and Ava. They were playing with the fox kits and helping the little girl perfect her rolling. He smiled. His heart clenched at the inexplicable desire to be a father.  
A soft clearing of the throat silenced the giggles. “Excuse me, ladies. Olivia, might I have a word with you?”  
“Of course, Moss.” She reached for his hand and he gave it, pulling her unexpectedly light frame up. She fell against him lightly then hugged him before pulling back. She brushed her skirt straight as they moved out into the hallway.  
“Olivia, there is a slight problem with your uncle and the maids.”  
Her pretty face darkened. “What is it?”  
“Do try to remain calm, sister. You must think of the baby.” He laid his hand gently against her stomach.  
Her fists rested on her hips, not swayed by his doting. “Tell me. Now.”  
He sighed. “I’ve just come from speaking with your uncle. When I happened upon the room, a young maid was leaving in tears, clutching her private area. I would have stopped her to make sure she was alright, but I did not want to embarrass her in her state of distress.”  
“Which one?”  
He struggled to recall her. “Small girl, dark blonde, almost brown hair.”  
Olivia cursed under her breath. “Sarah. Thank you, Mossimo. I will handle it.” She placed both hands on his chest and leaned up to kiss his cheek. He watched her slip back into the nursery. With a sigh, he turned and walked away down the hall. The loud, determined click of her heels down the hall brought his attention round. She was rapidly moving in the other direction. He didn’t know what she would do, but he was sure it wouldn’t be pleasant.

The baby cooed in Matilda’s arms. Olivia tickled her chin, smiling beatifically at the pleased sound the baby made. She looked up at her former nanny and positively beamed.  
“He’s simply lovely, Mattie.”  
“Thank you, Lady Sharpe.” Matilda sipped her lemonade then set the glass down nervously. “About my returning…”  
“I’ll fully understand if your husband wishes you to stay at home longer or permanently. Children and family are everything.” Olivia stroked the baby’s head gently.  
“Oh no! I’m coming back. I made that perfectly clear to him. I just wanted to make sure it was alright if I brought little Samuel with me.”  
“Of course! This handsome lad is more than welcome. I’ll have the bassinet moved into the nursery so he’ll be under Lydia’s watchful eye when you are busy.”  
“Oh, Lady Olivia, you don’t have to do that.”  
“It’s my pleasure. Lydia’s been a dream with Ava. And now that my darling girl is crawling, still on her belly mind you, the bassinet won’t getting much use.”  
“Oh thank you, Olivia.” Matilda leaned over and kissed her mistress’s cheek.  
“Well, isn’t this a lovely sight.”  
Matilda narrowed her eyes at the shadow of the man who had tormented her for years. “Mr. Lancaster.” She turned to look at Olivia, raising her eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you were welcome here.”  
His ironic laughter made both women look up. “Oh, don’t worry your little head, Matilda. I’ll be long gone before you return to your employment.”  
“Is that so?”  
“I’m sure you’ll be pleased to learn I’m dying.”  
Matilda met his eyes for the first time in her life. “I can’t say I’m sorry about that.” She looked at the clock through a nearby window. “I must going, Lady Sharpe. Samuel will be coming home for lunch soon.”  
“Of course, Mattie dear.” Olivia stood and showed her guest out, both women ignoring Silas as they moved into the manor.

Assembled company sat stiffly in the parlor. Thomas kept a hand on Olivia the entire time for her reassurance. And his own, to be completely honest. He felt more able to prevent her from doing anything rash if he had a hand on her already.  
Mossimo tapped his glass and ‘his’ four guests looked at him. “I have an announcement to make.” Annie shifted nervously in her seat. Mossimo had been talking about returning to Italy soon, but she had told him that she could not leave…and why. “Annie and I are to be married.”  
Olivia jumped up from the sofa and threw her arms around Annie. “Congratulations, my sweet!”  
“Congratulations, old boy.” Thomas stood and shook his friend’s hand, clapping him on the shoulder. The grinning women joined the men. Thomas hugged Annie, though they hadn’t been particularly close. The nuptials made his wife happy and that is what mattered. Olivia hugged Mossimo tightly and kissed both his cheeks.  
“We will be leaving for Italy after the wedding. My father and uncle are preparing the ceremony in our absence.”  
Annie’s face fell, her joy gone in a flash. “Mossimo, I told you-“  
He held up his hand. “Yes, you told me that you couldn’t leave because of your duty.”  
Olivia turned to Annie, taking her hands. “Oh Annie, don’t give up happiness on account of me and my family. Go! Have lots of beautiful Italian babies. Thomas and the children and I will visit.”  
“It’s not my duty to you, Olivia. It is my duty to Marian.”  
Silas, all but forgotten by the fire, scoffed. “What does that old cow have to do with anything?”  
“You shut your disgusting mouth about her!” Olivia stalked across the room and slapped him as hard as she could. She cried out as his meaty hand snatched her wrist surprising quickly and painfully.  
“Oh that’s right, this is the wrist that Lucille broke.” He squeezed it harder.  
“Let her go, Silas.”  
Olivia made only a soft whine as he twisted her wrist, the bones protesting with sharp cracks, her soft tissue sending flares of pain.  
Mossimo shocked the room by producing a pistol. The ratchet of the hammer drew everyone’s attention. “Let her go, Silas.”  
The man grinned. “Of course.” Olivia screamed as he snapped her wrist then released her. Thomas charged forward but stopped in his tracks. The despicable man produced his own pistol and pointed it right at the center of Thomas’s body. “Stay right there, Sharpe.”  
Olivia pulled the pin from her hair while the attention was on Thomas and stabbed it into and through Silas’s hand. The man shouted in pain and pulled the trigger. Thomas jerked as the bullet caught him in the side of the body then dropped to his knees. Mossimo fired into the Englishman’s face.  
“Thomas!” Olivia scrambled across the floor as her husband slumped to the floor. Blood welled out of the entrance and exit wound. She tore her skirt and wadded the fabric against both wounds. Several servants appeared in the doorway. “Get Dr. Adams! Hurry!” She held pressure to the wounds despite her broken and swelling wrist.  
Mossimo crossed to the dead man, making sure he was in fact dead. “He’s dead. No pulse. No breath.” He took the pistol from his hand and laid it on the table.  
“Olivia…” She looked down at her husband’s frighteningly pale, yet still handsome face. “I love you.”  
“I love you, Thomas. Hush, you must save your strength.”  
“Let the children know I love them too.” He touched her face, smearing blood on her cheek. “You saved me. They saved me.” His hand dropped to her belly.  
“Thomas Sharpe, stop saying goodbye. You’re not leaving me.” He stared up into her face, until he could no longer hold on to consciousness. His hand fell limply to the floor. “Thomas? Thomas. Thomas!”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilolgue

Ten Years later…  
Olivia adjusted the glasses on her nose, bringing the words more into focus. Her eyesight had started to go as she neared forty. She looked up as her two youngest children ran into the room, wet and covered in green leaves. The foxes barked at their feet.  
“Ava, Thomas, what on earth?”  
“Mummy! We found Mimi’s treasure box by the pond!” Thomas jumped up and down, excitedly. She imagined this was what her husband had looked like as a boy. She smiled sadly. She could see why Lucille, as emotionally broken as she was had fallen in love with him as such a raw age.  
“Yes, but you’ve ruined your pretty clothes. And Mimi and Lydia will be here any minute to take us all to the theater. Go change your clothes.” From the back of the townhouse came a large boom. “Oh for heaven’s-what the bloody fuck have they gotten up to now?”  
Olivia tossed her book onto the cushion next to her and hurried down the hall. She slid open the doors to the room that Henry had commandeered into his workshop. Smoke billowed from a contraption on the workbench.  
“I’ve got the window, Papa!”  
“What on earth is going on in here!”  
Thomas looked up from the smoking gadget on the bench. His glasses had slid down his nose. “I’m sorry, Livi. Henry wanted help with his machine.”  
She grinned despite her hands fisted on her hips. “And you couldn’t say no.”  
“Of course not.” She strode into the room. “Henry, go wash your face. You’ve got soot on your nose.”  
“Yes, mother.”  
She stepped to the side as her second son darted through. He had the potential to be a great inventor someday. And with his father and older brother behind him along the way, he no doubt would be.  
The wooden legs of the stool Thomas sat on scraped the floor as he stood up. He stretched then walked around the scattered bench to embrace his wife. She placed a hand on his chest. “Not so fast, sir. You’ve gotten oil or some other fluid on your shirt.”  
Thomas looked down and clicked his tongue. “Blast. That must have been what caused the malfunction. I’ll have to tell Henry. We’ll check the hoses when we return from the theater.”  
Olivia shook her head as she began to unbutton his shirt. She leaned in and kissed the first visible skin. He sucked in a breath. “This brings back memories…”  
His ruined hand cupped the side of her face as she looked up at him. “How many late nights did I spend in the workshop?”  
“Too many to count. At Allerdale and Vermilion.”  
“And how many times did I take you over or on the workbench?”  
She grinned. “Nearly every one of those nights.” He leaned and kissed her lips with gentle passion. Her fingers curled against his bare chest, drawing a hiss from him.  
“Do you think that’s appropriate, darling? In our son’s workshop?”  
Olivia tilted her head to the side. “Perhaps you’ll work late in your workshop…after Henry has long gone to bed…”  
“Perhaps…” He grinned as she pulled the soiled shirt from his trousers, teasing her fingers over the scar on his abdomen. His mouth hovered close to hers. “…and my lovely wife will come to fetch me to bed…”  
“Only there will be no sleeping for either of us.” Thomas grinned before claiming her mouth. She pushed him away before things got out of hand. “Let’s get you a new shirt, husband, before Mimi arrives.”  
“Yes, my sweet girl.”  
The shirt wasn’t the only thing they stopped for in their bedroom. He took her roughly over the edge of the bed. After four children and sixteen years of marriage, their passion had not cooled. They returned to the foyer, flushed and grinning as Michael arrived.  
The doorbell rang and the oldest Sharpe child and his very pregnant wife were greeted by a chorus of his name from his three younger siblings. Michael hugged his father and kissed his mother, melting into her embrace.  
“Mother, Father, you’re looking exceptional tonight.”  
“And so are you two.” Olivia winked at Lydia, who blushed shades darker than her flushed appearance. Michael and Thomas cleared their throats.  
“Yes, well, everyone’s ready to go. Out to the carriage, children!”  
“Yes, Papa!” Ava, Henry and Thomas chorused as they ran out the front door. Michael and Lydia followed suit. Olivia wrapped her fox stole around her shoulders. She looked up at Thomas. This wasn’t their ending, not by far. But they’d gone through so much to get to where they were.  
Thomas glanced down at her. “Something the matter, Livi?”  
She shook her head. “No, just thinking how lucky I am to have found you and how much I love you.”  
He smiled and kissed her with that same gentle passion as earlier. His thumb caressed her cheek. “Were you reading my mind?” They smiled at each other once more before joining hands. Thomas closed the door firmly behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it. That's the end. It's been a long journey and I hope you love/loved Thomas and Olivia as much as I do.


End file.
